


Good Kitty

by amycoolz, SylviaW1991



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura also dresses in drag, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drag AU, I hope you all are prepared, Keith is very Distressed™, Lance dresses in drag, M/M, Rating will go up, Shiro is also very Distressed™, The drag AU no one asked for, there is a LOT of smut in this, yup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-08-30 13:50:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 55,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8535622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amycoolz/pseuds/amycoolz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylviaW1991/pseuds/SylviaW1991
Summary: It had been a few years since Lance had last seen Keith Kogane, one drunken kiss breaking up their friendship. But now the Lion's Den, a drag-centric club owned and run by managers Allura and Coran, is need of a security guard and Keith is perfect for the job. Seeing Lance, Lance McClain, is definitely a shock to Keith's system. He'd spent so long trying to forget he even existed that he isn't even able to recognize him at first. But once he does, it stirs everything back up in a way he'd thought was long dead.And he hopes that Lance will eventually be able to trust him with more than just a peep show through his newly installed security cameras...





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We started writing this August 30 and finished it September 10.
> 
> No translations (yet) needed.
> 
> Also, everyone is aged up here:  
> Keith, Lance, and Hunk are all 25  
> Pidge is 22  
> Shiro is 32  
> Allura is probs around the same age as Shiro, if not a couple years older  
> Coran is a few years older than that  
> :D

The club was smaller than most of the venues in the area. Allura preferred it that way. It allowed her to keep her staff to a small, trusted handful and kept the shows more intimate. The more personalized they could make the show, the more likely they were to garner repeat customers rather than one-offs that only came to observe the unusual.

“Not that we don’t still get those types, as some people will always view our shows as spectacles rather than art,” she clarified to the newest addition to her small team. It brought their numbers from six to seven, not counting her lower staff. But the main supervisors were what counted to her, were the ones she saw and spoke most often to. “But since we've become more popular as of late, we've seen an increase in the... _attitude_ that comes with such beliefs. Which is why I'm very grateful to Shiro for recommending you. I've needed to free Coran from security for some time, and I appreciate you coming in to put a fresh spin on things. How long were you at Vanilla before it closed?”

“About a year and a half. It was still a start-up at the time, and was in a bad location, so it wasn't open for very long.” Keith shrugged. “Honestly, I was kinda glad to get out of there. But it did leave me without a job, so I'm really grateful for this opportunity.”

“Well, we did hear that there was never a major incident while you were there. After what happened two weeks ago, we'd prefer to avoid future ones.” It still irritated her that it had happened at all. No one should be grabbing the queens, certainly not so much that another had to intervene. That was security’s job, and had opened her eyes to this particular hole in her business. So they'd adjusted and had revamped their team, and placing Keith in charge felt right. Allura’s gut wasn’t wrong about most or Lion’s Den wouldn't have been celebrating its fifth year of business. It helped that she'd liked the ideas he'd brought to his interview, and his knowledge of the rest of the team went a long way as well.

She patted Keith’s arm, lips curving in a warm smile. “We have weekly staff meetings with the supervisors to go over the weekend plans and you'll be expected to attend them. There’s also a monthly meeting with the entire staff. It's less involved, but you'll have to attend that as well. You already know our hours, of course. Normally, I wouldn’t ask you to come in before two, but for the next month, I'd appreciate you coming in a few hours earlier just to see that everything's up and running. After that, things should be stable enough for you to relax.”

“Sounds good.” He smiled, eager to get back in the swing of things. Vanilla had already been shut down for three months before Shiro had found out and contacted him with the details of the job, insisting that he apply. Keith was seriously relieved that Allura seemed to like him enough to hire him on, though he tried not to let it show.

“Wonderful! We have a meeting with your fellow supervisors in an hour. In the meantime, I'd like to leave you with Coran. He can familiarize you with our current setup and you can go over some of your proposed changes with him.”

“Alright.” Looking around, he could already see some of the things they'd have to fix, but felt confident enough that he'd be able to get it done. “I'm ready whenever he is.”

“Excellent.” She led him out of the main dining room through the stage, bypassing the main two dressing rooms and three office doors. Security was the last door, and she knocked once before pushing it open. “Oh, Pidge, you're here too!”

She didn't look up from a tangle of wires, sandy hair fluffed around her face and glasses slipping down her nose. “One of the day-shifters _tripped_ and ruined my life. Coran, what’re you doing, man?! I need video feed on 6B!”

“The video feed isn’t attached because _you_ needed the plug for a different camera system!” he reminded her, mostly hidden behind a wall of screens.

Allura smiled, patting Keith’s arm. “There's nothing like hands-on learning. Pidge, Coran, I'd like to introduce you both to Keith. To remind you, he'll be taking over security here.”

Pidge finally looked up, honey eyes lighting up. “Whoa, _Keith_! Shiro said you were coming on board, hey!” She hopped up, grin wide. “Welcome to hell!”

Keith chuckled, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug when she walked over. “Hey, Pidge. It's good to see you again.”

“Yeah, you too!” She gave him a firm squeeze. “Come on. Let me give you the technical run through of this awfulness. I'm supposed to be doing finishing touches on tomorrow's show, but ta-da.”

“Yeah, what the hell happened?” he asked when he pulled back. “It looks like Best Buy threw up in here.”

“One of the day-shifters tripped. Like, seriously, that's what happened. Tripped, flailed a lot, broke a screen, and yanked out some major cords.” She waved a hand. “Like I said, welcome to hell. Security has sort of been pushed to the wayside lately? Everything's a mess.”

“Pidge.”

She spared Allura a look. “I'm not wrong. So roll up your sleeves, Keith. We've only got an hour.”

“Then we’d better not waste any time.” He shrugged his jacket off, throwing it on the chair that was pushed to the side of the room. “What do you need me to do?”

“Everything. Me and Coran got this, Allura.”

“Wonderful. We'll see you in an hour.”

Allura stepped out, leaving them to untangle wires and reroute systems to get alarms and cameras back online. Some of Keith’s ideas were implemented immediately, though the room still didn’t look particularly pretty after their hour went an extra thirty minutes, but everything was working.

They weren't even the last ones in the meeting, Pidge sighing heavily but not bothering to ask. Hunk was rising, eyes and smile bright as he grabbed Keith’s arm to pull him into a quick hug. “Keith, hey. Allura said you were trapped with Pidge and Coran. I can't believe you're here. This is great!”

“Hey, buddy.” Keith returned the hug then sat in the empty seat next to him, reclining back in the chair. “Yeah, this is already better than my last gig. It's definitely a plus getting to see all you guys again.”

Across the table, Shiro smiled at him. “I'm glad you actually applied. We can really use your expertise.”

“I'll say.” Pidge flopped into the seat beside Shiro. “He's already a life-saver.”

“Thanks, Pidge.” His lips quirked up in a half-smirk. “You do have some issues here, but nothing too big. They should be an easy enough fix.”

“You’re free to take as much time as you like the remainder of the afternoon to look about,” Allura assured him.

“Cool. It doesn't look like there's that much more I’ll need to do, anyway. You may not have the best security measures in place right now, but it’s absolutely a step above what Vanilla had.” He’d basically built that club’s security team up from the ground, but they still had issues with fights breaking out and general misconduct. Thankfully it was never anything serious, but the owners had still decided to shut the place down after they became nightly occurrences. “I can definitely work with what you've got.”

Coran stood by Allura's seat at the head of the table, the two passing papers back and forth. “He's done well so far. Works quick, adaptable to the program we have in place, clever ideas - Shiro gave us a good name.”

“I'm not surprised.” Allura and Shiro exchanged glances, Shiro's face going just the barest shades of pink before he cleared his throat and looked away. “But I am glad to hear you're eager to work, Keith. I don't promote lightly.”

“And never from outside!” Coran added.

Shiro smiled easily, prosthetic arm making the lightest of odd sounds when he folded his arms on the table. “Believe me, there are worse risks to take.”

“Well, seriously, I appreciate it. I've had a, uh, bit of a rough time since Vanilla closed.” For the three months since he'd been laid off, he’d been forced to do some various odd jobs under the table, making barely enough to support himself. At one point he’d almost been evicted from his hovel of an apartment because he couldn't make rent on time, but luckily his landlady understood his situation and had given him an extension. He would have kissed her had she been his type, namely, had _she_ been a _he_. “You honestly have no idea how much I do appreciate it.”

“Well, I think it's just really cool.” Hunk grinned. “It’ll be nice having you around. Plus, this helps give Pidge a break from dealing with security issues.”

“The system’s as old as the building, I swear.”

“Thankfully, you no longer have to complain about it. It'll be getting an update soon enough.” Allura opened one of her folders. “Keith, I wanted to discuss the budget you think you'll need to bring everything up to date. And then we need to discuss tomorrow's show.”

“Yeah, if a certain somebody ever gets here,” Pidge muttered.

Keith nodded to Allura in understanding; he’d have to come up with a ballpark number until he was able to do some more thorough research. “Who exactly are we waiting on?”

“We're not waiting on him. It'll be ten days before he shows up,” Pidge muttered.

“He's not that bad.” Everyone stared at Hunk for a few quiet seconds until he smiled, shrugging in defeat. “Okay, so maybe he's kind of that bad.”

The door abruptly flung open, long jean-clad legs eating up the floor on the man's way to the table. Slender hips rocked to whatever tune was blaring through his headphones, but stopped abruptly when blue eyes landed on Keith. He blinked and lifted up the thick headphones after switching the music off. “Um. No. No, no, no. I don't- What the hell is Keith doing here?”

“Everyone knew he was coming! We talked about it last week,” Pidge reminded him.

“Right, but I wasn't listening.”

“Obviously.”

“Guys, can we not bicker for one meeting?” Shiro interrupted.

“I'm not bickering. I'm just trying to figure out why mullet's in my seat.”

" _Mullet_?” Keith frowned; and here he had been graciously checking him out, admiring those long legs and sharp facial features. He looked vaguely familiar, and he obviously knew Keith, but from where Keith couldn’t place. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Lance tipped his head down, glaring at him down the length of his nose. “Uh. Seriously? Are you actually-? Oh my god.” He threw his hands up. “I'm out.”

“Sit,” Allura commanded and he dropped down in the seat beside Keith since it was the only free one. “Keith is here to handle our security.”

" _This guy_?”

“And you will behave and accept the decision because he is more than qualified for the position.”

The quiet staring match ended when he flopped back in his chair on a gusty sigh, arms folded. “Fine. Whatever.”

Keith glared at him out of the corner of his eye but stayed silent, listening to the start of the meeting. He’d get his answer soon enough.

“So, _anyway_ , why are you even this late?” Pidge demanded.

“Because I was saving your butt.” Lance lifted his hips to get his phone out of his pocket, and scrolled through his text program. “Guess which queen was trying to change her act.” He slid the phone across the table, his nails coated in an icy blue polish.

“Is it Lita Mean again?” Pidge snatched the phone up. “That _bitch_! She's changed it, like, ten times,” she explained for Keith's benefit. “And every time she does, _I_ have to fix the entire set of effects. It's driving me to drink.”

Shiro chuckled. “You can have all the apple juice you want.”

“Oh, haha.” Pidge elbowed him fondly before sliding the phone back. “Alright, Lance, I'm prepared to forgive you for being late since you convinced her.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“If you’re a smartass, I'll take away my forgiveness.”

Keith’s gaze was stuck on Lance’s hands, still holding his phone up. He had some of the longest fingers he’d ever seen on another human being before, and the blue polish, while confusing, didn’t look half bad, providing an attractive contrast against his skin tone. Deciding he’d ask about it later, he added that question to his list, right behind _Who are you?_ “Is the queens changing their minds an issue you guys have to deal with very often?”

Lance slanted him a look, still miffed that he was in his spot and that he didn't actually remember him. What an asshole. “No, it's a problem _I_ have to deal with. I'm the queen-wrangler.”

Hunk snorted. “And half the regular talent would end you if they heard you say that.”

“Which is why I say it here. My safety zone.” Lance gestured to the room in general, then pointed at Keith. “Don’t fuck up my safety zone, mullet.”

“Did you finally get confirmation from Madame Chartreuse for Sunday's show?” Allura asked before the warning could explode into something more.

“Yeah. Also part of my hour lateness. She confirmed, sent me her songs. She only wants to do the first show, though, unless...”

" _Lance_ ,” was snapped by the entire group sans Keith.

“It's a pause for dramatic effect!” he protested. “None of you have any appreciation for dramatic tension.” When he only continued to get unimpressed stares, he kicked his long legs onto the table, crossing them at the ankle. “She wants Allura to MC the night show. Otherwise, she's just doing the first one.”

“Hm. When did you say you'd give her an answer?”

“Today.” He shrugged. “She's hard to cop, okay? She's only considering us because our reputation is flawless. That crap two weeks ago shook her up.”

“Which is exactly why Keith is here.”

Lance glanced Keith’s way before rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

The name burned in Keith’s mind, and he was desperately trying to remember why he knew it. The guy had those mile-long legs, eyes bluer than the clearest skies, cheekbones that looked like they could cut glass… plump lips that felt so soft under his. He could still taste the alcohol on his breath, those long fingers massaging Keith’s hips, and- _Holy shit_. “Lance? As in Lance _McClain_?!”

“Aw, look who woke the fuck up.” Lance folded his arms behind his head, a little smugly satisfied now that surprised knowledge was on Keith’s face.

Keith whirled around in his chair, glaring at the smug bastard. How could he have forgotten about Lance…?

He and Lance shared a lot of the same classes during their first two years of college, and over the course of time, he had developed a stupid crush on him, causing Keith to question his sexuality. Then at a sorority party in junior year they’d shared one drunken kiss, and Keith had gotten his answer. He’d wanted to ask Lance out after that, but somebody who’d been at the party with them pulled him aside and told him that Lance was a slut, that he would only stay until he got bored and then move on. That had made Keith’s stomach churn and his heart hurt, so he’d stayed away after that, distancing himself, until Pidge had smacked some sense into him. But at that point it was already too late and Keith had just wanted to forget about it.

Apparently, he was better at forgetting things than even he knew. Sighing, he crossed his arms over his chest and slumped back into his chair, muttering, “Shut the hell up, McClain.” He hated that he didn’t have a better comeback, but at the moment, he couldn’t think past his heart pounding in his chest. _Damn it_.

The asshole was still pretty. His dumb mullet curling over the collar of his jacket, bangs falling over his brow, so close to obscuring those odd eyes that never seemed to know if they wanted to be some sort of navy or purple. It made Lance want to brush his bangs back, his fingers itching to touch. As they’d done too often in college, they only curled into fists. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need Keith fucking Kogane back in his life, stirring up feelings that would never, ever be returned.

“So what am I telling Madame Chartreuse?” he asked Allura, pushing memory back as far as he could. “Are you going to crown yourself king and MC for the night show or not?”

“I will. We’ll have to start advertising where we can. Lance-”

“I already have posters designed. I’ll hit my office after the meeting and forward them to you for approval. We’ll slather social media with them and see how mullet here handles a challenge of an actual celebrity.” And, okay, maybe he hadn’t pushed the memories back far enough. Whatever.

“I can handle anything you throw my way, shitlord,” he bit back.

Lance scoffed. “Bull. You’re-”

“Enough!” Shiro interrupted, Lance slumping in his chair and averting his gaze. Keith rolled his eyes, turning his head to look at the wall. “I’m sure Keith will handle the situation just fine as long as we’re careful not to overbook the shows.”

“Do you think you can have a budget worked up by tonight so changes can be implemented by next weekend?” Allura wondered. “It doesn’t give you much time, but this would be a very big event for us and we need it to go smoothly.”

His shoulders rose in a half-shrug. “I could give you a rough estimate, sure. I’d need a little more time for proper planning, but I could get that to you by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Excellent. We’ll try and carve out some time for you to meet what staff you’ll have available as well.” Allura shifted her attention, lips curved and eyes ablaze with the determination they all by turns loved and feared. “Now, Hunk, we don’t need to totally redesign the menu. That would be utterly ridiculous.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“But-”

“Oh, boy, here it comes.”

She ignored him. “I’ll need you to design a new item. We’ll have it on special, one night only.”

Hunk nodded. “Got it.”

“Now Pidge, with Keith here to take the technical aspects of security off your hands, I’ll need you to ensure that there isn’t a single snafu in the special effects or in the music.”

She saluted. “You got it. I’ll need her songs, Lance.”

“Already texting them to you. I need to see who else I can get with her on board.” His legs fell from the table so he could sit up, adrenaline pumping now with the promising show on the horizon. They’d been working on booking the madame for months, so there were already plenty of ideas and several queens that Lance knew would headline well with her. It was almost painfully last minute, but they couldn’t miss the opportunity. “I’m thinking Velor, Georgia Rose-”

“Kitty Gallo,” Allura interrupted.

Lance laughed. “Without a single doubt.” He pushed back from the table. “Okay, I need to make some calls. I’ll shoot you the posters, Allura.”

“Lance, the meeting just started and you’ve been here five minutes.”

“And now I have shit to do, Pidge. Amazing how productive five minute meetings can be.”

“It’s fine.” Allura waved a hand. “I just need a final list by tonight, so keep me updated.”

“Allura, please, I’m a professional queen-wrangler.” Lance pressed a hand over his heart, lashes fluttering as if wounded. “I’ll get you confirmation in two hours.”

Keith scoffed. “You? A professional?”

Lance glared at him, jabbing him in the chest. “Don’t talk to me like you know a single fucking thing about me, mullet. You had your shot, and you missed out.” Annoyed, he snatched up his headphones and strode out.

Every eye in the room was on Keith as he sat stunned, sternum throbbing and stomach rolling. He felt like he was going to be sick. “I- Can I- I need to go.” He jumped up and quickly left, walking swiftly down the hall and into the bathroom, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, elbows perched on his knees and face in his hands.

 _God_ , he was a fucking idiot. Lance’s words hit him hard, sending his mind reeling. _You had your shot._ He should have just gone for it back then and he shouldn’t have listened to the people telling him it was a bad idea. _You missed out_. But hindsight was 20/20, and he’d always had a hard time seeing what was right in front of his face, anyway. _You had your shot…_

He turned and sent his fist flying into the door of the stall next to him. It banged loudly against the wall just as the door to the bathroom cracked open. “You know,” Shiro began conversationally, “you probably shouldn’t be breaking things before you’ve gotten your first paycheck.”

Keith’s lips quirked despite the odd mix of rage and shame scorching his insides. “Sorry. I just- Sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” Except that was a filthy fucking lie, and both he and Shiro knew it.

“I think it’s a pretty safe bet to assume that whatever it was had something to do with you and Lance.” Shiro folded his arms, leaning against the wall. “I didn’t know there was... a history there, or I would’ve warned you. Pidge and Hunk seemed excited to have you on board and Lance... well, he obviously wasn’t listening.”

“Obviously…” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, it was college, right? It was a stupid, drunk decision made at a stupid party, and maybe some bad advice was taken. And I fucked everything up, Shiro, to the point that now Lance probably _actually_ hates me.” He blew out a heavy sigh. “I shouldn’t have ignored him, but I can’t go back and change it now.”

“Coming from someone who knows Lance very well, I can say he doesn't hate you. I've seen Lance’s face when he hates someone, and it's not good.” Shiro shrugged. “So, no, you can't change what happened in college, but you can do more than sit in the bathroom and feel bad.”

“Heh, yeah, I guess you’re right.” Keith pushed himself up from the wall, knuckles now sore along with his chest. “I’ll, uh, I’ll talk to him. We’re both adults now, there’s no reason we can’t have a civilized conversation.”

Shiro couldn’t help but chuckle, shoulders lifting in another shrug. “As much as I care about all of you, I'm not blind to your flaws. Lance isn’t exactly a shining beacon of maturity, so give him some time to find someone to rant to before you try that.”

“…This is true. Thanks, Shiro.” Keith gave him a quick hug before they both exited the room, making their way back to the meeting that was still going on. “Uh, sorry,” he said when he took his seat again.

“It’s alright, Keith. We all have our outbursts, and Lance is rarely angry for long.”

“Yeah,” Coran agreed. “He’s like a... a puppy. Snappy one minute and playfully harmless the next.”

Pidge snorted. “I don’t think I could ever think of Lance as a puppy.”

“Why not?” Hunk laughed. “He’s yappy, kind of adorable, loves people totally unconditionally, and-”

“We are so off-track,” Shiro interrupted. “I have an entire bar to clean and look over to make sure everything that needed to be restocked was, and I would rather not be here until midnight to do it.”

“Of course.” Allura opened one of her folders. “So since last week...”

Keith tuned out the rest of the meeting, sitting low in his chair with his feet kicked up in the one next to him. He couldn't believe he'd be working with Lance fucking McClain, and that neither Pidge nor Hunk had thought to tell him. They both knew what had happened between them at that party, and they _both_ knew that Keith had basically severed ties with the guy afterwards.

And even though Shiro assured him that Lance didn't actually hate him, he had seen the anger and hurt swirling in those all too expressive eyes of his when he stormed out. He desperately wanted to make things right with Lance, because, if he had to be honest with himself, those feelings he had for him never went away, not matter how tightly he tried to bottle them up. Seeing Lance again had shaken him so much that they'd all resurfaced in one huge, messy explosion.

When the meeting was over, Keith rose from his seat once again, ready to head home and drown himself in whatever alcohol he happened to have in his apartment, but was stopped by Pidge’s hand on his forearm. “Hey. You okay?”

 _No_. “Y-yeah, Pidge,” he lied, “I'll be fine.”

She lifted her brows, staring at him over the tops of her frames. “Yeah, except you’re full of it. I never would’ve thought you’d still be hung up on Lance. Of all the people in the world, Keith, you’re stuck on Lance.”

“I- Listen, Pidge, he was my first gay crush, okay? You never _completely_ forget something like that. That kiss never should have happened the way it did, and what I did afterwards was one of the stupidest decisions I've ever made.” He ran his fingers through his hair, clenching his other fist in his pocket. “And you know, him being here just brought all these messy feelings back to the surface. So _yeah_ , I guess I am still stuck on Lance.”

She sighed. “Okay. Come on. The three of us - that being Lance, Hunk, and I - normally hang out after we get stuff done after these meetings. So I'm going to shove you back into the closet we've glorified as the security office, and Hunk’s going to be the ear Lance needs to get his act together. If you _want_ another chance here, we'll absolutely help you take it.”

Keith took a moment to consider it. At this point in their lives, it didn't seem likely that Lance would give him another shot, but… they _were_ both adults now, more mature, right? Maybe there _was_ another chance that he could take, so long as Lance stopped being an actual shitlord for two seconds. If there was, he'd absolutely take it.

“Yeah, Pidge. I do.”

“Then I guess we're doing this. Come on, Hunk.”

“Right behind you.” Hunk slung an arm around him, squeezing hard and very obviously having been listening. “This is gonna be great, man. Don't even stress about it.”

“It's gonna be impossible for me to _not_ stress about it, but thanks, guys. It's good to be around some familiar faces again.”

\----

Hunk separated from them when they reached Lance's office, the first door after the backstage dressing rooms, and pushed it open without knocking. Lance looked up from his desk, the entire surface cluttered with papers, pictures, and various knick-knacks that had been gifts from queens that ranged from harmless bobble heads to a glittery pink dildo held in a glass case like it was a prize, but held up a finger for silence as he continued on the phone. " _Bueno. Gracias, chiquita_. I'll make sure it happens, yeah. _Muchos- si, muchos gracias. Y tu, chiquita. Adios_.” He ended the call, but didn't set the phone down as he shot off a few texts. What's up, Hunk?”

“Uh. What do you mean? What's up with _you_ , man?”

Lance huffed. “Nothing. I'm fine.”

“No.” Hunk dropped down into one of the chairs in front of his desk. “No, you're not. You picked off the polish on your thumb.”

Lance frowned down at his hands, and leaned down to grab cotton balls and polish remover out of one of his drawers. “Maybe it was on purpose. I need a new color. I've had this one for days, and I have this good navy.”

“Lance.”

His shoulders hunched, gaze dropping to his hands as he removed the color from his nails. “Okay, so maybe seeing Keith shook me up some. I wasn’t ready.”

“Allura and Coran told us all last week that we were bringing him in. It was at the last general staff meeting, too.”

“One) I was still soothing ruffled feathers from two weeks ago to pay attention to most of the meeting. I heard ‘new head of security,’ and that's it. Two) I wasn’t at the last staff meeting. And, while I'm listing things, three) he was just as surprised as I was, so you guys didn't tell either of us. What the hell's up with that?”

Hunk winced, smile sheepish when he shrugged. “Yeah, uh... I don't know. When you didn't react, I kinda thought that it wouldn't be a big deal? And, hey, it's been ages since we saw Keith and apparently he's been in a tight spot lately. But don't tell Shiro I said anything about that because I wasn't supposed to hear him and Allura talking about it in the first place.”

Lance tried really, really hard not to care. But he sighed, digging out his nail drier and a base coat. “What do you mean? Like he's not homeless or something, is he?”

“No, it's not that bad.” At least he was pretty sure. He wasn't one to press for details. That was Pidge's job. Or Lance's, actually, so it was kind of weird sitting there trying to press for details. Hunk sighed, watching Lance slap the clear coat down with practiced ease. “But why are you asking if you don't care?”

Lance pressed his lips together, staring hard at his hands as he shoved them beneath the drier. “Lance, come on,” Hunk prompted. “Safety zone, man.”

“I... Okay, yeah, fine, I still fucking care. Okay? Are you happy? I still care about Keith. He- I'm not the one who cut things off, alright?”

“I know, Lance, but-”

“He never talked to me!” Lance barrelled on as if Hunk hadn't spoken, shaking his head. “He shoved me aside, and he never came back. It was all his fault! And now what am I supposed to do? You guys want me to welcome him back with open arms? Fuck him!”

“Lance, no one said you had to just let him back in. I know he hurt you, man.” Lance had always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, emotions bared with every expression on his face. And maybe Hunk had spent his fair share of time avoiding Keith for the blow he'd dealt Lance, but after Keith had bared all to Pidge... Maybe it had been too late at the time, but things had changed. And if Lance still cared enough to still be carrying that hurt around, it couldn't be too late to at least salvage the friendship.

When the quiet stretched between them, Lance snapped his music on and dug out the navy blue. China Glaze wasn't generally his first go-to, but the First Mate was what he had on hand. “So I'm guessing he's sticking around if he really needs the job.”

“Yeah. And it's been a few years, man. You've changed, he's probably changed. It's all an evolution, Lance. Besides, he... You know, he actually wants another chance.”

Lance lifted his gaze slowly, capping the nail polish before he could spill it. “Excuse me, what?”

Hunk nodded. “Yeah, you know! Pidge asked him how he feels about the whole thing.” Sort of. “And he said he wants another chance.”

“No!” Lance exploded. “He- He can't just show back up and get another chance like... He walked away from me! He didn't have to just- He didn’t have to just cut me out like I was _nothing_! We were friends, weren't we? We didn’t have to be more if he didn’t want more! I'm not that kind of guy, so-” He shook his head, slouching back. “I'm not giving him another chance to mess me up again. I'm not doing it, Hunk. I won't.”

Hunk reached out, curling a hand around Lance's wrist in a show of support since his shoulders had started to shake. The group criers had to stick together, after all. “You don’t have to let him in all the way, Lance. But we're working together. You’re going to see each other. Why can't you... Why can't you just let him be nice to you? Maybe he's sorry.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“You don’t know that he isn't.”

“Hunk, he didn’t even remember me.”

“That-” Was true. “He just didn’t recognize you. When he did figure it out, he remembered your last name. He remembers you, Lance. Just maybe try and remember why you were friends in the first place?”

“Because he had a nice ass, ugly hair, and was a mouthy bastard with a cute laugh.” Lance shrugged, picking up his brush to finish his nails. “Some of those things haven't changed. Some remain to be seen. But I'm not letting him back in. He's... Fuck him,” he repeated, though his tone lacked heat.

It was progress. “What if he apologizes?”

“Then someone'll have to pick my jaw up off the ground.”

“Lance.”

“Okay, okay. Maybe I'll be nice. But don’t run interference, you _or_ Pidge. If he wants back in my life, then he can figure it out himself. Coming back won't be as easy as leaving.” He was going to make absolutely certain of that. Keith wasn't going to hurt him again, damn it. “So do you need work help or are you just in here to gauge my Keith feelings?”

“Uh.”

Lance grinned. “Well, my Keith feelings have been gauged enough for now, so you can get the bonus of work help. I've got a page of the madame's preferences in food, music, and effects, one for Pidge and one for you. You can tell Keith he needs his shit together by Saturday morning for an initial run-through and then we'll need another Sunday morning.”

Hunk rose, taking the sheets from the printer, and let the subject go. He wasn't the pusher, so he'd let Pidge poke and prod him and Keith into the right place. Unless it got out of hand and more hurt feelings were stirred. Then Hunk would absolutely start doing some pushing. “Will do. Uh. So how do you feel about him coming to dinner with us after we're done here?”

“Are you serious?”

“Pidge already invited him.” Lance checked his nails, then threw his hands skyward in a gesture of complete betrayal. Hunk was used to it, so grinned. “Okay. I'll let him and Pidge know that you're still in.”

“You guys are the worst kinds of people!”

“Yeah, probably. Later, Lance!” Hunk scurried out before Lance could protest or renege on dinner.

Scowling, he only sank lower in his chair and turned up his music to brood while he finished fixing his nails. It absolutely didn't matter if Keith Kogane wanted to stroll back into his life and butt his way into his routines. It didn't matter that the thought of Keith wanting a second chance caused his heart to stir in a way it hadn't in years or butterflies to beat at his stomach lining. Nope. Nuh-uh. Keith couldn't stroll in the way he'd strolled out.

Lance smirked. He'd have to crawl.

\----

Lance was still a little nonplussed to be hanging out around Keith, but he was at least able to call shotgun and jump into the passenger seat before Pidge could argue with him. He didn't want to sit next to him the entire drive to the little corner pub they'd picked. Lance's hope had been to get a little drunk, find someone to go home with, and forget all about Keith's unexpected resurgence into his life.

But the last time he'd gotten drunk around Keith Kogane, the asshole had avoided him for the next year and a half. Not too hard with their majors - Lance in theatre and dance and Keith in engineering - being so vastly different, but they'd had the same friend group after spending the first two and a half years of college turning their bickering into something more and more friendly. And then maybe Lance had gone without any sort of significant other for a couple of months in the hopes that friendly would segue into something even more.

But, no, one kiss and everything had vanished. He'd lost a guy he'd really thought of as a close friend because... well, hell, he still didn't understand it. The kiss had been hot, from what he remembered. And he'd only been tipsy, so he remembered very clearly the way Keith's lips had felt against his. A little sloppy and unsure at first, but things had smoothed out quick enough. God, Keith had kissed him like a man starving and Lance had been more than able to return the urgency.

Then, the very next day... nothing. At first he'd thought maybe Keith hadn't remembered. Maybe he'd been a little more drunk than Lance had thought. But when several days went by without a word from him, he'd started to get antsy. Like maybe Keith had remembered and thought Lance was trying to take advantage of him? And then more days had passed and he'd just gotten pissed off. So they'd finally collided in a nasty argument, and...

And Keith had just been gone. Anger had simmered into hurt. Because it hadn't made sense to him and still didn't. Why couldn't they have gone back to being friends? Why had Keith just cut him off? And why in hell did he actually want to give him another chance? He blamed Hunk. Totally and completely Hunk's fault for being sensible. Ugh. Whatever.

When they made their way inside, Lance made sure to keep Hunk or Pidge between them, not really caring that it was childish. But then they were eye to eye in the booth and fuck not drinking. He needed at least one sturdy shot if he was going to be stuck looking at Keith the whole evening, so tossed out an order for a tequila shot and a coke when their waitress came around.

Keith stared at him from across the table, not even looking up when he gave the waitress his drink request. “Jack neat. And a water.” He finally tore his gaze away to look up at her. “Please,” he finished, in the interest of not acting like a total dick.

“Sure thing.” She jotted down Hunk and Pidge’s drinks and left them to look over the menus.

Lance fiddled with his more than he read it, stomach churning. He hated awkward situations, hated the discomfort. He wasn’t one for introversion, so this awful need to be alone could be dumped squarely on Keith’s shoulders. It didn't help that Pidge and Hunk were being silent, waiting for him or Keith to break first.

What a bunch of assholes.

“So how the hell did engineering turn into security?” he muttered, not looking up from the menu.

Keith's eyes lifted, briefly glancing at Lance across the table; his fingers were clenched tightly around the edges of his menu, crinkling the lamination, and he noticed that the nail polish he'd had on earlier was gone, replaced by a captivating shade of navy blue. It looked even better than the last color, and he felt his own grip on his menu tightening so he couldn’t reach out to do something stupid, like caress his fingers.

He returned to perusing it instead, skimming over it without really taking anything in. It was an innocent enough question, so he tried to expel the annoyance from his tone. “Well, obviously it wasn't my first choice. Wasn't much of a choice at all, really. I was never able to find a job where I could use my degree, but one of my… acquaintances had heard about the security position at a club in town and he'd helped me get it.” He shrugged. “Then I got the offer to be head of security at Vanilla, and, well, the rest is history.”

“Yeah, well, Vanilla was basically a shithole from the start. We tried networking a few times and something on their end always fucked things up last minute.” Lance stared hard at the page, trying hard to actually discern words. His voice was still nice, a little stilted by the same awkwardness that was probably tightening Lance's tone, but the last time they'd spoken, it had been curt and short and harsh. Maybe Hunk was right and Keith was actually, genuinely trying to be nice. Lance glanced up, lips quirked in the smallest of smiles because he was a sucker and he fucking knew it. “You're obviously better off.”

Keith couldn't argue that, not with the smile he realized he'd missed so much being sent his way. _Damn it_. How could he have been so stupid to give that up? “Yeah, it was never ideal. Even if I'd known about the issues I had for three months afterwards, I _still_ would have been thrilled that it closed.”

Lance wanted to ask. Hunk had hinted that there had been issues for him, but he hadn't had details. But they weren't friends. Ex-friends. He was going to be very firm about that, damn it. They were just co-workers now. Ex-friends and co-workers. The kiss had never happened. If he just erased that from the equation, then he could deal with this. When he only shrugged, Pidge spoke up, tired of being quiet and anxious to keep the conversation moving. “You basically built their system, didn't you? That's what it sounded like when we were talking before the meeting.”

“Yeah…” He turned his attention to Pidge since the look in Lance's eyes shifted to something more callous. “Yeah, since they were just opening up they left me in charge of designing their entire system. Cameras, alarms, door locks… I even had the authority to hire bouncers and the like.”

“That's actually pretty cool.” Hunk elbowed Lance’s side, getting an elbow back for the trouble, but at least he started smiling again. “At least you won't have to be that extensive here.”

“Coran’s been doing a pretty good job,” Lance was quick to point out. “Considering how many hats he wears, that system should be totally fried by now.”

“It's close,” Pidge reminded him. “And some of the staff does need some combing. Some of them are... a little lax.”

Well, that wouldn't do. Keith was very thorough with his work, something he took great pride in, and that he'd just have to get a look at the staff members himself. “I'll have to get with Allura and have her give me the go-ahead to make my own observations. Not that I don't trust her judgement, but I do know what I'm doing. Hopefully she'll allow me to make changes there, too.”

“She probably will. She wouldn’t have hired you if she didn’t expect you to take the reins.” Pidge leaned back, seeking their waitress for signs of their drinks. “So do you guys know what you want to eat yet? I'm starving.”

“Yeah.” Hunk grinned. “I've got a list.”

Lance shrugged. “Chicken sandwich,” he decided on the spot. Every place had a chicken sandwich and it was always the safest bet.

Keith set his menu down. “I think I’ll stick with a cheeseburger.” Couldn’t really go wrong with that. “What about you, Pidge?”

“I have no idea.”

Lance laughed. “Cripes, Pidge.”

“What? I was waiting for at least one of you to have something worth stealing. You've all let me down.”

“Wha-?” Lance threw his arms up. “Hunk didn't even specify what he's getting!”

“Right, but he didn't say exactly what, so it might not be worth stealing. Don't argue with my science, theatre major.”

“Pssh. I don’t have to have your degree to recognize pseudoscience bullshit. Keith’s not even in a real science, and he probably knows that.” And, holy shit, was it easy to throw him in. To drag him into a conversation with a tease. It shouldn't be that easy. “Same with Hunk,” he tacked on, evading Keith’s gaze.

Keith couldn’t tear his eyes away from Lance, even though he was refusing to look back. The casual way Lance had mentioned him seemed so effortless, and it was definitely not lost on him. Maybe… Maybe there _was_ a chance that he could turn things around, at least be friends again. But he knew Lance was stubborn, knew it wouldn’t be easy to gain his trust back, so he’d just have to try really hard. “Yeah, Pidge, that doesn’t really make sense.”

Lance looked up, eyes wide for a moment before he schooled his features and dropped his gaze again. Keith never agreed with him. He was probably just trying to score brownie points. He swallowed, pitifully grateful when the waitress returned with their drinks and took their orders. Pidge waited until they'd all finished before ordering hot wings.

Lance swirled his shot, staring hard at it before tossing it back and smacking the glass facedown on the table. The burn was small in comparison to the realization that Keith was actually trying. Maybe he was actually sorry?

“I still don't know how you drink that trash,” Pidge mused.

He laughed, grateful for the distraction. “Stick to your apple juice, kid.”

Upon ordering, Keith had every intention of nursing his whiskey, but when it was placed in front of him, he was quick to grab it up and knock half of it back in one gulp. It burned pleasantly down his throat, settling warm in his stomach as he set the glass down. Lance’s eyes were glued to him again, could feel them boring into the side of his head, but he didn’t want to look back at him just yet, instead focusing on Pidge. “We’re gonna find you something that you like, Pidge, and then you’ll be able to have some real fun.”

She snorted. “I'm fine with soda.”

“What about those frozen fruity things?” Hunk teased. “I've seen you drink those.”

“She nurses them so long they end up being more soup than slush.” Lance pushed away the fleeting memory of whiskey on Keith’s tongue. Or tried. But it stayed, rooted in place alongside those dark eyes, _“You don’t like it because you've never had the right taste.”_ A little hesitation, some drunken bravado. _“Want one?”_

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Lance pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, head falling back. Why couldn’t he spend even an hour around him without everything stirring back up? He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to hurt again. Why was that so hard?

“Lance, you okay, buddy?”

“Fine, Hunk. Just a headache,” he lied.

Keith knew better than to believe him. Just because they’d spent the past four years apart from each other didn’t mean that Lance had gotten better at lying; he’d always been terrible at it. And even though he couldn’t see into Lance’s mind, he had a pretty good idea of what was going on inside. He was having the same problem, hung up on that memory swirling hazily in his brain. The whiskey had only made it worse, and he glared down at the glass in his hand, fingertips turning white with the death grip he had on it.

Yet at the same time, he wanted to hold onto the memory as long as possible. It had been one of the best kisses of his entire life, he’d been happy, holding onto Lance as their lips met and tongues danced, mirroring the movements of their bodies at the stupid party neither of them had wanted to attend anyway. A fleeting, yet euphoric, moment in time that had been crushed by Keith’s dumb conscience. He wasn’t going to give up now.

He downed the rest of the drink and slid the glass to the side. “Pidge, don’t you normally carry Tylenol or something with you? Lance might need it.”

“Does he, though?” But she dug out a baggie, looking like quite the drug dealer as she passed two pills to Lance.

He took them without protest. Even if they all knew he was lying, he wasn’t about to out himself. He swallowed them with his soda, lips settling into an irritated pout. “Thanks.”

Thankfully their food had come before too much time had passed in awkward silence, breaking the tension and opening the way for idle chatter while they ate. Keith kept throwing Lance sideways glances, sometimes catching his eye before the other turned away quickly, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it had been, so counted it as a win. They’d each paid their own bills when the checks came and then piled into Hunk’s SUV to drive back to club to retrieve their respective vehicles.

Hunk dropped them and drove off waving. Pidge was off next since Lance would absolutely never leave Pidge on her own in a parking lot at night. She may have considered herself to be genderfluid with fem pronouns, but the assholes of the world saw all fem. It left him alone with Keith, but he could handle it. He could absolutely handle it.

Until he saw the red and black motorcycle parked beneath one of the lights, right next to his own blue hatchback. But at least that was new. The bike was decidedly not, but it still gleamed. Lance’s heart stuttered in his chest, keys jangling in his tight grip. He'd spent plenty of time on the back of it, clinging to Keith’s waist and wishing that they could go forever. Just the two of them. Gone and free and _together_.

“What, can’t find a buyer for that relic?” he asked, blessing every second of his theatre degree for allowing his gesture towards it to be casual.

Keith shrugged. “She’s been good to me.” His fingers grazed over the handlebar fondly. It had been with him all throughout college, through thick and thin, and he’d developed a bond with it after everything that had happened between him and Lance, who’d also spent his fair share riding with him. If he thought about it really hard, he could still feel the ghost of Lance’s arms wrapped around his middle as they sped through the city streets. “I couldn’t just give her up.”

Lance could feel the nasty words bubbling up, but they spewed too quickly for him to swallow them back. “Shocking. I would've bet this thing would've just ended up on the side of the road somewhere. I mean, you're basically an expert at giving things up.”

He froze, hand curling tightly around the grip on the handlebar. The words stung, worse than the bile rising up that was stinging his throat. “Listen, shitlord, I didn’t come here to fight with you. I came here to do my fucking job, and that’s what I’m gonna do, whether you like it or not.” He swung a leg over the seat and dug his keys out of his pocket, shoving them in the ignition. “And, not that it matters much to you apparently, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Sorry for the way everything went down and sorry that I walked away. But you seem to be too bitter to realize that.” The engine roared to life beneath him as he turned the key and he spared Lance one last look before speeding out of the parking lot.

If he’d looked longer, stayed just another moment, he would’ve seen the tears. Lance pressed his forearm over his eyes, breaths coming out shakily and quick as he tried to force them away. He’d been ready to take back the words, knowing they were harsh as they’d formed, but Keith hadn’t given him a chance. He never gave him a chance. “Fuck you for always getting the last word, mullet,” he whispered to the air and climbed into his car to head home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna promise a regular upload schedule because we suck. Just know that it is complete and we'll be posting chapters (hopefully) every week _around_ Friday. Like we were gonna post this last night, but, again, we suck.
> 
> Tentative schedule:  
>  ~~Ch. 1 - 11/12~~  
>  ~~Ch. 2 - 11/18~~  
>  ~~Ch. 3 - 11/25*~~  
>  ~~Ch. 4 - 12/2~~  
>  ~~Ch. 5 - 12/9~~  
>  ~~Ch. 6 - 12/16~~  
>  ~~Ch. 7 - 12/16~~
> 
> *Amy will be on vacation for Thanksgiving; this date is subject to change.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So chapter 6 of _Lessons_ still isn't up because I, Amy, am a piece of trash. The translations are killing me guys.
> 
> But here's chapter 2 of this since it's technically Friday where we live now. :)

The next day started _hellishly_. Keith had gone home the night before and drunk himself into a stupor until he’d passed out on his couch, Lance’s words echoing in his brain every time he shut his eyes. He was a _fucking_ idiot and probably screwed up his chances at ever fixing anything between them. He’d had every intention of actually apologizing to him for real, but then he’d gone and hurt Lance _again_. And, god, _he was a fucking idiot_.

Burdened with the Worst Hangover Ever, stomach full of three pots of coffee and eight aspirin, and dark sunglasses covering his eyes, he trudged back into the club an hour before Allura had asked him to be there. He made a beeline for the bar, downing an entire glass of the most caffeinated soda they had on hand before filling it up again, making his way to the tiny security office in the back of the building. Lance’s office door was shut, but Keith could still hear the loud music blasting out of the speakers through the wall. He thought about knocking to try to talk to him, but shook his head, breathing out a heavy sigh and walking into his glorified closet.

There was still the matter of a revised budget to get to. Settling into his chair, he plugged his headphones into his phone, pulled up a spreadsheet on the computer, and got to work. He was nearly finished putting the final touches on the new camera layout proposal he’d made up when he was tapped on the shoulder. Tugging a headphone out, he turned around and saw Pidge behind him.

“So I came in here with one important question, and now I have two. First, why are you wearing sunglasses? You are inside a building. You look like a douchebag.”

“The lights are bright, Pidge, and my eyes are sensitive.” She was smart, she’d figure it out. “Next question.”

“Okay, whiskey baron. Second, how the hell did you manage to hurt Lance in the five minutes you were left alone with him last night? He smiled at you at dinner _three times_. I was keeping track. And he shows up today bright and early - and this is a man who never does anything bright and early - and already has a _list_ of things in his backlog finished, and hasn’t been out of his office once since ten. All he’ll tell Hunk is that he finally got his apology. So. What. The fuck. Did you do?”

“Pidge, I-” He swallowed down the sick feeling rising back up again. “I fucked up. _Again_. And I didn’t even give him a chance to say anything back, Pidge. I mean, I fucked up _spectacularly_.”

“And how long exactly have you been in here without actually going in to talk to him?”

“Uh, not long? I was going to, but…” He’d pussied out. “I will, okay? Soon.” He just needed to try to get rid of this headache first. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything stronger than aspirin in your stash, would you?”

“Would a hole in the head work?” There was a beat of silence and she shrugged, retrieving her bag of pills. “I can’t tell for sure because, again, douchebag glasses, but I’m pretty sure you’re glaring at me. So here’s something that should actually help. You also need water. You know hangovers are mostly just a result of dehydration, right?”

“...Yeah, of course I know that.” _Idiot_. “But thanks.” He took the pills from her, tossing them back with a swig of his now-flat soda. “And stop looking at me like that, I’m gonna go talk to him. I just, I don’t know, figured he needed some space first.”

“Do you-? You know nothing about Lance McClain.” She sighed, rolling the bag back up to push into her pocket. “He bottles things. If it’s messier than a laugh, he closes it up and puts it away until someone goes and uncorks the bottle. He doesn’t want to... to be a burden, so he’ll take on everyone’s emotional baggage whenever they need him to and is surprised anytime someone goes out of their way to shoulder his.” She poked his chest, frowning. “He needs to talk, Keith, and you need to give enough shits about him to let him.”

Keith took his glasses off and set them on the desk to drag his hands down his face. How many more times was he going to fuck up before he got it right? “Okay. Then I’ll go talk to him now.” He got up, swaying a little bit from a rush of dizziness. “After I get some water.”

“Probably a good idea.” Pidge rolled her eyes. “I’ll walk your dumb self to the bar, but then you’re on your own.”

“Thanks.”

Keith definitely felt a bit better after he’d gotten some water in his system, but the glare of the lights was still a piercing pain behind his eyes. His headache had only gotten worse when he found himself outside of Lance’s door again, heart beating wildly in his chest, fist raised to knock. He took a moment to shut his eyes and compose himself before letting his knuckles rap on the wood a couple of times, and waited for a response.

The music dropped in volume, but didn’t shut off entirely, and the door swung open seconds later. The curious expression faded into hurt and then carefully constructed blankness. “You look like hell, mullet. What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you, if you would let me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Please.”

He hummed, but stepped back. His door was left open for Keith to come in. “Fine. I can spare a few minutes, I guess. I have this weekend’s schedule made up for you, and I went ahead and made a list of security staff for you to take a look at with some notes on what to look out for. I’ll print those for you, and then you can go back to doing your fucking job, whether I like it or not.”

 _Fuck_. His own words being thrown back at him was a punch in the gut, and there was a very strong possibility that he would actually get sick today. “Lance… Look, I came in here to say that I’m sorry. For everything. I was a total asshole and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve any of those nasty things I said to you last night.”

Lance dropped into his desk chair, heart pounding harder than he wanted it to as he queued the pages to print. He wanted to snap at him some more, be as bitter as Keith had claimed, but most of his night had been spent tossing and turning from a combination of fresh hurt and old memories and his day had been filled with too much injected cheer as he’d gotten bookings settled for the next month. He was just too tired to fight with him.

“Fine, Keith. Just- It’s fine.” He grabbed the pages from the printer and held them out. “Just take these and leave me alone. Whatever I did that made you leave me alone last time, just pretend I did it again and go away.”

Keith had to stop himself from snatching the papers from him, instead reining in his control and slipping them from Lance’s fingers. Then he dropped down in the chair on the other side of Lance’s desk. “No,” he argued firmly. “I’m not doing that again. It was a mistake, and I’m man enough to admit that now. But… you’ve got to stop thinking it was something that you did, because it _wasn’t_. It was my fault entirely and I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to hear you tell me that you’re sorry.” Lance dropped his hands into his lap, fingers curling and uncurling into tight fists in an effort to calm down. “We were _friends_ , Keith. We were friends for more than two years, and I thought-” He’d thought they were finally going to be more. “You just cut yourself out of my life. There wasn’t a gradual distancing or anything that would’ve hurt a hell of a lot less. It was instant. You were just- You stopped talking to me, you walked out when I walked into places. It was just- It was like losing an arm or something. We didn’t have to be _more_ , you jackass, but we didn’t have to be nothing either.”

“I- Damn it, Lance, I _wanted_ to be more, I just… Somebody told me some shit that I shouldn’t have listened to, but I took basically a stranger’s word over something I should have just talked to you about and, _fuck_ , I hated myself, I still do.” He set the papers down on the desk and dropped his head into his hands. “I was stupid, okay? A _fucking idiot_. I never meant to cut you off, I was just scared and confused. And I’m fucking _sorry_.” He’d keep saying it even though Lance didn’t want to hear it because it was _true_.

“Seriously?! You ended our friendship or whatever because of something a _stranger_ told you? Are you-?” He wasn’t going to be calming down after all. Keith had wanted more. _Keith_ had wanted more, and he’d still walked away. “What the _fuck_ , Keith? It must’ve been pretty fucking convincing.”

There were now frustrated tears stinging behind Keith’s eyelids, along with the bile still stuck in his throat, but he refused to let them fall. Not now. Not in front of Lance. Not when half the reason they existed was the goddamn hangover headache. “They- They called you a slut, among other things. Said that you didn’t know how to stay faithful and slept around even if you were dating someone.” His voice broke and he had to swallow. “And I- I listened to them and I regret that every day. I-” He shook his head, blinking furiously against the tears threatening to fall. “I don’t know why I listened to them…”

It was, without a doubt, the dumbest reason Lance had ever heard. He’d never been able to fathom the reason behind the abrupt exit in his life, and that hadn’t even been close to the possibilities he’d imagined. His own reputation, true or not, had ended things. He’d known what people had thought about him through college. Being bi through high school had been hard enough, but realizing he was pan? That had caused an explosion of curiosity and negativity, and maybe he’d gone through a slut phase - sex and attention had been an irresistible combination - that had ended very quickly because hello, mullet.

But to lose Keith? Not even losing the potential relationship, but to lose the entire person to rumor and speculation over two years old? He hadn’t imagined that. And, god, he hadn’t imagined the amount of hurt in that. Keith hadn’t trusted him. He’d trusted rumor and slander, but not him. He ducked his head, laugh too soft and too shaky to hold humor. “Why not listen to them? I flirt all the time with everyone. That equates to- to...” God damn it, he was bad at comebacks when he needed them. He propped his elbows on the desk, burying his face in his hands. “You’re an asshole.”

Keith knew that. _God_ , did he know that. “I- Yeah, I know.” Thankfully he’d gotten a hold of himself, clenching his fingers against his thighs. “I’m sorry, Lance,” he murmured.

“Why did... I don’t understand why you’d listen to somebody else, Keith.” Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much if he just knew what had been going through Keith’s mind. “Just... why?”

Keith drew in a deep breath to try to calm himself. It was time to come clean. “You were my first gay crush, Lance. I realized halfway through freshman year that I was attracted to you. And then I started noticing that it wasn’t _just_ you, but guys in general, and it kinda scared me. I went through all of sophomore year trying to come to terms with it. Then junior year started.” He dragged his hand through his hair again. “We weren’t in as many classes together anymore, and I actually missed being around you. Then we went to that party, I worked up the nerve to kiss you, and you _returned_ it, and it was great. And I knew you were bi, so I decided that I was going to go for it. Of course, that’s when I was told that you were pan, not bi, and I just didn’t understand? The explanation I got was, well… you know.”

No, it still hurt. Lance dragged his hands through his hair before he looked up. Keith somehow looked worse than when he’d come in, eyes a little bloodshot between the hangover and unshed tears, his mullet in finger-raked shambles, and the corners of his lips tight. Lance’s shoulders sagged as he rose from his chair. It may have hurt, but he wasn’t the only one hurting. Keith had done a number on himself. “Come here, mullet. You seriously need a hug or something.”

Keith pushed himself up and rounded the desk, walking right into Lance’s outstretched arms. His own wrapped tightly around Lance’s waist, his forehead dropping onto a shoulder. God, he’d missed this. Lance had gotten surprisingly strong, but he was still soft and warm, just like Keith remembered. It was a miracle that he’d been able to stop himself from actually crying. “Lance, I- Thank you…”

“You’re not out of the woods yet, buddy. I’m still really irritated and hurt because, wow, really?” Lance gave him a friendly squeeze anyway. “But I think it’s kinda funny that my extremely obvious attractiveness sent you into a gay tizzy.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, voice muffled in the fabric of Lance’s shirt, but he huffed out a small laugh anyway. They were at least taking a step in the right direction. Hopefully they’d be able to become friends again at some point. He stepped back reluctantly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Thanks for talking with me, Lance. I’m just sorry it didn’t happen sooner.”

“Yeah. But just so we’re clear, you have your gayness solidly identified now and understand that pan isn’t synonymous with slut?”

“Yes, to both.”

“Okay, good. Next time someone tells you some bullshit about me, I’d like to know about it. I mean, even Pidge or Hunk could’ve set you straight.” Lance was still hurting as he dropped back into his chair and switched the playlist on his computer, but it was tempered with understanding and something not quite forgiveness, but not complete bitterness either. “Don’t forget the schedule for this weekend and the staff list. It’s got their numbers, so you can call everyone in and see what you can do. Coran hired them, so...” Lance shrugged. “Go away so I can finish my shit. And I’ll- I’ll see you later?”

Keith grabbed the papers off the desk, folding them under his arm. He allowed himself a small smile, just a quick upturn of lips, at Lance’s words. “Yeah, definitely.” With lifted spirits, he made his way back to his tiny office to finish working. It was a rocky start, but it was something, and he would take Lance’s hesitation over his contempt any day.

\----

In college, Lance had absolutely been the class clown. He'd cracked jokes, made his opinion known, bickered with peers - namely Keith - and had been a bundle of impossible energy that somehow made straight A’s. After only half a day of working at Lion’s Den, Keith saw that he was exactly the same on the job but had also added a layer of competency that was admittedly kind of attractive. But he was constantly buzzing about once his bookings were completed. With Madame Chartreuse had come a flurry of higher end queens and those who liked to flock to them in hopes of catching that shine. It was thrilling, flooding him with energy.

Not only did Allura and Coran come in to check on Keith’s projects, often approving or rejecting on the spot, but he found that Lance often squeezed himself into the space of his office to babble and, most surprising, offer constructive feedback. He'd dragged Keith out of his office at one point to demonstrate why exactly certain camera placements wouldn't work and why the room’s layout couldn’t be altered. He actually made sense, something Keith didn’t really recall from college. He also didn’t recall Lance’s eyelashes being quite so curved, had no idea that Lance had curled and painted them himself since their talk had put him in a better mood.

Lance didn’t only bother Keith, though. He flitted into the kitchen to see how Hunk was doing with his culinary creations enough times that Hunk officially banned him for the day. Lance ignored the ban. Pidge, too, was treated to his over the shoulder hovering. But she was a bit more welcoming since it gave her an opportunity to grill him about Keith and get his opinion on the effects she had in mind for the weekend’s shows.

The only thing he didn’t do was help Shiro because that was a ban he actually listened to. He did prop his elbows on the bar and chat while Shiro cleaned glasses, though. There was another grilling over Keith, though this one was nicer than Pidge's blunt questions. He still danced around and evaded most of them. Particularly, “How do you feel about him?”

He didn’t know the answer.

He sailed into one of the changing rooms, cleaning supplies at the ready and organization on his mind. Sure, they had a janitorial staff, but the cleaning kept his hands busy in a mindless fashion that let him think. He pulled on his headphones, music blaring as he sang along and wiped down the long mirror that took up the majority of one wall.

Keith. Keith, Keith, Keith. A week before, he would've winced or shrugged a casual “Keith who?” depending on who asked him.

A week ago, Lance had felt confused contempt. Easy. The guy had abandoned him after two and a half years of solid friendship over one drunken kiss. What a jackass.

Now? He was the guy who'd abandoned him after two and a half years of friendship over fear of risking his heart to someone whose label was misunderstood. Did that make it okay? No. Did it make it easier to swallow? Maybe a little.

He wished Keith had cared enough to try and find out the truth for himself. He'd had an entire year after cutting him off. Hadn’t Keith missed him at all? Hadn't he _wanted_ to talk to him again? It had been too easy for Keith to leave him once. Lance was still wary of being left behind again. So he didn’t want to attach expectations to him again just to have his hopes completely dashed and his heart broken. It was the one thing he'd kept entirely to himself over the years, but he'd loved Keith when it came down to it. And the jerk had cut him out with one nasty slice.

He looked up when he noticed Keith in the mirror’s reflection. It was terrifying to realize that Keith had taken a piece of his heart with him when he'd made that cut.

He lifted his headphones as he turned, sitting on the counter. “So you drew the short straw? Who needs me for what?”

“Shiro wanted me to come check on you. He was worried that you haven't eaten or anything all day since you were here so early this morning.” Keith kept the _and had apparently locked yourself in your office for the first half of the day_ to himself. “It’s past five now… _Have_ you eaten anything?”

“Uh...” Lance pressed a hand to his stomach. “Hunk threw an apple at my head, like... A few hours ago? I have no idea.”

“God, Lance, you need to take a break and eat.” Keith hadn't eaten since right before he went in around eleven, so he was much in the same boat as Lance. “If you want, we could, uh, grab something together. It’ll be on me.” He wasn't sure if Lance would accept his offer, but it was worth a shot anyway.

At one time, the “yes” would've rolled out before the question had finished. Now he wasn’t sure if he could handle being alone with him for that long. Lance hopped down from the counter, shaking his head. “I... raincheck? I'm just gonna see what Hunk’s come up with for Sunday's special. If you... just wanted to do that. When he's working on a new recipe, he makes tons of food.”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed, but he understood. “Y-yeah, sounds good. Any idea what he's making?” He hadn't had a lot of time to visit with everyone else, but knew Lance had been bouncing around the entire club all day.

“Creole whatever. He was twisting around a jambalaya last time I went in there.” Lance gathered up his cleaning supplies to tuck in a supply closet. “The madame is straight from New Orleans, so spice and seafood.”

Keith knew that Hunk was a goddamn artist with his food, so he was sure that whatever he was whipping up would be amazing. “Well, it’s gotta be great since it's Hunk making it.”

“Yeah, duh. Why do you think I keep sneaking into the kitchen?” He just kept forgetting to actually get food. Lance grinned. “Come on, mullet. How's your head?”

“Still pounding, but whatever Pidge gave me earlier took most of the edge off.” He returned Lance's grin with a small smile of his own, reminded of how easy it used to be between them. “She’s basically a pharmacy on legs. I don't know what we'd do without her.”

“Literally die?” Lance paused at the janitorial closet to shove the supplies inside and checked his phone out of habit. “But maybe don't get hammered next time you're upset about something. Hit something or do yoga, jesus.”

Keith’s brow quirked, along with the corners of his lips. “Yoga?”

Lance snickered, hip casually bumping against Keith’s. “Don’t knock yoga, mullet. It's very useful.”

The easy contact left behind a tingling in his skin, hope flaring anew in his chest. He hummed, stealing a quick glance down at Lance's legs. “I bet it is.”

Noticing the look, Lance’s heart stuttered in his chest. But “first gay crush” didn’t mean “current gay crush.” ...Did it? Holy shit, he didn't think he could deal with that. He was still struggling with the possibility of being his friend again. He wasn't about to go for more.

Even though Keith’s smile was still cute and his hair still looked so temptingly soft and- no. No, no, and slap a great big NO on there for good measure. He wasn't doing this again. He wasn't letting Keith do this to him again.

Lance tucked his hands into his pockets. Why couldn’t he live a nice, happy life where he wasn’t attracted so strongly to Keith Kogane? “So I need your number since you're doing security junk.”

“Sure thing.” It hadn't changed, but he highly doubted that Lance had saved it like Keith had held onto Lance's. He pulled out his phone, scrolling to his contacts and hovering over Lance's name with his thumb. “What's yours? I'll text you mine.” He rattled it off and Keith could only stare at the screen, hands shaking slightly. _Lance hadn't changed his either_. Keith fired off a text with his, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. “There ya go.” He blessed every god that his voice didn't crack.

Lance’s phone hit the floor. “Shit! That-” He hadn't been ready for the contact to show up. He'd tried several times to just delete it. He never used it and, god, the last message between them was an unanswered one from Lance.

_will you please just talk to me?_

Lance grabbed his phone and shoved it into his pocket. He should’ve just deleted it. Deleted his number, deleted the stupid picture he'd used as Keith’s contact picture. “Okay. I- thanks. I'll just... So food. We should eat.”

Keith caught a glimpse before Lance managed to tuck his phone away, heart stopping briefly when he saw his own face on the screen. Twenty year old him with an arm slung over twenty year old Lance’s shoulders while a selfie was taken. _"Just smile, Keith. It's gonna be your contact photo."_  

Lance had kept his number, too, Keith realized, the memory swirling.  _Oh my god_. He swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. “Y-yeah. Food.”

Heart racing, Lance ducked his head and pressed forward down the hall. He needed other people. Anyone else but Keith and the way he still made him feel.

Keith silently fell into step beside him, hands stuffed into his pockets. He had no idea what could possibly be going on in Lance's head, but his eyes were downcast and his steps were landing heavily on the floor. Wanting nothing more than to wrap him in another hug, Keith stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, whirling him around into his arms to squeeze tightly.

Lance’s breath caught, fingers tangling in the fabric of Keith’s shirt. “I...” He started to pull away, but couldn't make himself do it. Even when the source of comfort came from the source of pain, he didn’t want to leave the hug. “Why isn’t it easier to hate you?” he mumbled, face buried in Keith’s hair.

His arms tightened further around Lance’s middle, the same tears from earlier making themselves known again. He rested his brow on Lance's shoulder. “Please don't hate me, Lance. I- I wanna make things right again. Just… please. Give me another chance.”

“I don’t-” No. He didn’t want to give him another chance, but he clung a little tighter. “It was so easy for you to disappear last time. I just- What if you do it this time, too?”

“I won't-” He choked back a sob. He’d managed not to cry up to this point and he wasn't about to start now. “I can't do that. Not again.” _Not to you_.

Lance pressed him closer, hesitating before rubbing slow circles against the small of his back. “Don’t cry, you asshole. That’s- This is exactly the kind of crap that makes me not hate you.”

“M’not crying…” But he could feel a few tears escaping anyway. _Damn it_. “Please.”

“It’s okay, Keith. I’ve got you.” Lance sighed, unable to help but relent. If he was a sucker for two things, it was tears and Keith. The combination sunk him. It was almost impossible to believe that Keith would be crying over this anyway. Like... like he really did regret it. “Did... did you actually miss me? Like at all?”

" _God_ , of course I did, Lance.” How could he not? Lance had been such a big part of his life, even though they hadn’t known each other for too long. Two years - two and a half, really - was such a small amount of time in the grand scheme of things, but they were two - and a half - of the most important and memorable years of his life. “I missed you every single day.”

“Then why... We had a whole year and a half of school after that. All that time, and you still didn’t...” Lance drew back a little, enough to see his face. “You never took the time to actually look up what pansexual is or..? Come on, Keith. You could’ve come back at any time, and you just didn’t.”

“I know! I- I know.” He wiped his eyes with a palm, drying it on his jeans. “I was an idiot. But I didn’t think you’d actually let me back in your life, so I- I distanced myself and- It was stupid, I realize that now.”

Lance really was hopeless, but he’d known that the first time Keith had strolled into English I with his awful mullet and that fashion sense straight out of the eighties. “Okay,” he sighed. “Okay, Keith. You’ve got your second chance. Just... don’t make me regret it. Please.”

“I won’t.” He beamed, heart racing and fingers clenched in Lance’s shirt. “I promise. I just- Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lance shrugged, lips curving into a teasing smile. “Maybe I just don’t want to see you cry, you big baby.”

“Not a baby…” Keith finally let go of him, taking a short step back, smile still in place. “But seriously, food. I’m fucking starving.”

“Same. Just wash your face. Everyone’s going to think I was a jackass and made you cry and tears aren’t that great for the skin.” Lance pressed a fond kiss to his brow and made it two steps away before he realized what he’d just done. _Son of a bitch!_

Stunned, Keith was stuck frozen in the middle of the hall, skin tingling where Lance’s lips had just touched. Another rush of hope flared up. Did- did Lance still care about him? Lance had always been a tactile person, but this seemed like it was something more. He couldn’t help the color that flooded his cheeks, but his grin didn’t die. “Y-yeah. I’ll go wash up. Meet you in the kitchen?”

“Uh. Yeah. Kitchen. See you there.” Lance whirled, face as red as Keith’s, and all but ran to the kitchens. “Hunk!”

He groaned, standing at one of the stoves to heft a pot. “No. I banned you. I’m serious.”

“No, no, no. No. No, no.” Lance ignored the sous chef until he felt bad. “Hi, Shay.”

“Hello.”

Back to Hunk. “I need help. I’m bad at this.”

“Bad at what?” Hunk dunked a spoon into the pot and offered it to Lance. “Try this.”

“I’m bad at _Keith_. He’ll be in here any minute, so I don’t have time to screw around. But I’m just really, seriously, completely bad at dealing with- holy crow, that’s actually amazing? Anyway, yeah. Bad at dealing with Keith.” Lance shifted out of the way when Hunk began to pour his jambalaya concoction into a few bowls. “I need help.”

“You and Keith staying for food?”

“Yeah. I’ve only had that apple you threw at me, and I’ve got no idea what Keith’s eaten today, but he said he’s starving. And then I kissed his forehead like I’m his mom or something.”

The ladle jerked, some of the food sloshing over the edge and back into the pot. “Hang on, what?”

“Yeah, welcome to the problem!” He threw his arms up while Hunk got two more bowls to fill. “I still...” He paused to actually lower his voice, wary of being overheard even though Shay wouldn’t tell a soul. “I’ve got feelings, Hunk. Ugly, gross, messy feelings. I don’t want them, but they’re there same as they used to be. I’m giving him a second chance because he just... He makes me feel feelings.”

“Then maybe a second chance isn’t a bad thing? Kissing him might be kind of dangerous.”

“Yeah, you think? I mean- I mean, _cripes_!” Lance dropped his face into his hands, scrubbing viciously until he squeaked because his mascara. He dropped his hands. “How bad?”

Understanding because this was Lance, Hunk shook his head. “You didn’t smear it.”

“Good. Anyway, I’m still- I just-” Lance sighed heavily, leaning against the door of the large refrigerator. “So he texted me because I need his number if he’s here, you know? And his number hasn’t changed.”

“How do you know that?” Sighing, Lance took out his phone and opened the contacts to show him. Hunk’s eyes widened, the pot getting set down with a hard _thunk_. “You still-?”

“I couldn’t delete him. I tried? Like a million times, I tried to erase him. I’ve changed phones plenty of times between then and now, so it would’ve been easy. But I just couldn’t make myself do it.” Lance shoved his phone away. “So when he texted me, his picture popped up and it’s just been so long since I saw it. It’s been ages, and I used to text him every day. He used to text first sometimes! But then he stopped and... His number’s the same, Hunk. He’s not exactly the same, but his number is and his bike is and- and my fucking feelings are all still the same.”

Hunk laid a hand on his shoulder. “Then do what you always do, Lance. Go with them.”

He was scared to, but the kitchen door swung open before he could say anything. “So all these bowls for the guys?” he asked instead.

“Yeah. You’re all still here, big shock, and I want opinions.”

“Gladly. It smells amazing, Hunk.” Keith smiled, but it was aimed right at Lance. He’d spent his short time in the bathroom staring at his forehead in the mirror, trying to see if Lance’s lips had left an imprint like he’d felt they did, then eventually splashed his face with cold water to wipe away the sticky tears on his cheeks. If Lance was able to kiss him anywhere without enticement on his part, maybe there was still a chance for something between them. “Lance said you were trying your hand at jambalaya? Or something like it?”

“Essentially. Thickened it some, turned up the spice. If Lance can handle it, anyone can.”

“Hey! I can handle spice. I just can't handle weird or gross.”

Unimpressed, Hunk blinked at him. “Yeah, so, if Lance can handle it, anyone can.”

Keith took one of the bowls off the counter, lifting it up briefly to waft in the delicious-smelling steam before grabbing a spoon and digging in. The spice hit his tongue immediately, but wasn’t overbearing, and yeah, Hunk was still a master chef. “This is fucking awesome, Hunk,” he complimented once he’d swallowed it down, already going in for another bite.

“I know, right? It was actually kind of fun finding all of the right things to toss together. It was a good thing Shay has the food background she does. She was a big help.”

She didn’t look up from the dishes, but her lips curved.

Lance grinned, elbowing Hunk. “So where's her bowl, buddy?”

Pink flooded his face. “Uh-”

“Hunk did invite me, but I must make haste. If I stay anywhere near all of you, I am very certain I would never make it home. At least, not at an acceptable hour. But I thank you for the invitation, Lance.”

He elbowed Hunk again, eyebrows arched. “Already invited her, huh?”

“Ahhh- We should get these bowls out before everything gets cold. Shay has everything handled in here.” He hefted the tray and strolled out quickly, leaving Lance laughing.

Keith cradled his bowl close, staring at Lance; his laugh hadn’t changed, still bright and musical, face lighting up and eyes twinkling. He was just as gorgeous as ever, and Keith couldn’t believe he’d ever given him up. Not this time. Not ever again. “So,” he whispered conspiratorially, sidling a little closer to Lance, “Hunk and Shay?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s amazing food even gets cooked in here with the way they’re always eyeing each other. It’ll happen eventually.” Lance shrugged, his grin coming easily as he hunched to whisper back. “But she’s just sweet and Hunk’s... well, Hunk, so it’s taking forever.” He winked and straightened, walking to Shay to throw an arm around her shoulders to give her a companionable squeeze. “One of these days, you’re going to hang out with us.”

“I suspect that day might come when you tell Keith that you are feeling feelings,” she said softly, and color flooded his face. She smiled. “Make haste, Lance, or the food will get cold.” She leaned forward to wave at Keith, smile warm. “It was a pleasure to finally meet you, though we were not properly introduced.”

He grinned back. “It was nice meeting you too, Shay. I hope you do come hang out soon.” His gaze slid to Lance. “I’m gonna go sit down and actually eat. You coming?”

“Uh. Yeah. Right behind you.” He slanted Shay a look, straightening, and tucked his hands in his pockets. “See you, Shay.”

“Farewell, Lance.”

She returned to the dishes as he and Keith walked out. “I think she’s been spending too much time with Pidge.”

“What makes you say that?” he asked, balancing his bowl carefully so no food would slosh out.

“Uh...” That wasn’t happening, nope. “Just trust me.” Lance led the way to the supervisory team’s normal meeting room, but didn’t take his normal seat next to Hunk. No one commented when he flopped into the chair he’d had the day before, but Hunk and Pidge exchanged glances.

Keith set his food on the table before dropping down in the seat next to Lance, which was apparently Lance’s, leaving Keith confused as to why he hadn’t just taken it. But he wasn’t going to complain, especially since they were finally at least getting along better. He smiled to himself and tucked back into his food. “Today seemed pretty productive,” he commented.

“Having Madame Chartreuse agree to come in necessitates productivity.” Allura folded her hands above her bowl, letting it cool a bit before eating. “If all goes well with her, we'll have an opportunity for more of the big names in this particular industry.”

“It's a niche market and a little flighty, but it'll never not be entertaining,” Lance mused. “But I've already booked some of those names, Allura. I've got us covered for the next month. I sent you and Coran emails with the list. Pidge, I sent yours out too. Some of the songs are actually theirs, so I need to talk to you at some point about live singing and not just lip syncing. And, Hunk, there's some food requests that I need to go over with you, so-”

“Speaking of productivity.” Shiro's smile was all fond. “Shut it down for five minutes and eat, Lance.”

“Yeah, come on, Lance,” Keith goaded, pushing a bowl closer to him. “Work can wait.”

“Pssh. This isn't work.”

“Says the guy who's on Facebook all day,” Pidge teased.

Lance pointed his spoon at her. “Hey, I'll have you know that social media is only, like, ninety percent of my job.” It wasn’t true in the slightest, but he was alright with the perception since the team also knew it wasn’t true.

“The other ten must be bugging everyone else while they're trying to work,” Hunk laughed.

Lance finally dumped his spoon into the jambalaya. “A guy's gotta have a hobby.”

Keith smirked. “Like yoga?”

“I told you not to knock yoga, mullet.” Maybe he should’ve tried to reel it in, but flirting was as natural to him as breathing. Lance sucked on his spoon, sending Keith a sidelong look. “I'm _very_ flexible.”

Breath catching, he almost choked on a piece of sausage. _Jesus_. He swallowed carefully, sweeping his gaze over what he could see of Lance above the table. His imagination ran wild, picturing them falling into bed together, Lance wrapped around him in a multitude of impossible positions. Fuck, but Keith _really_ wanted to find out firsthand just how flexible he was. Shifting imperceptibly in his chair, he mumbled, “I'm sure you are.”

Lance managed to bite back the “I'll show you sometime” that normally would've rolled out. He wasn’t immune to an attractive face, and he hadn’t let heartache over Keith keep him celibate over the years. He knew what he was doing now better than he'd known in college. But he was absolutely not tossing out the casual invitation to his bed. They weren't even really friends yet. Maybe on their way, but not quite there.

He tuned back in to the conversation going on around them, Coran shifting to the meal and what Hunk would need to recreate it for Sunday. Work was a much safer topic to think about than whether or not Keith was a top or bottom or playing on team switch. Would his lips still taste the same? _Fuck_. He was so bad at dealing with Keith.

Lance shook his head, eating quietly for a few minutes while he struggled to think of something not flirtatious to say.

“Oh, Keith, before I forget, I did approve your budget. Coran placed a rush order on the equipment you need, so it should be here by Thursday.”

 _Thank you, Allura_. Lance pointed his spoon at Keith. “That doesn’t give you time to run installs before Thursday's shows, but Pidge and I should be able to help you reorganize what's available. We're dealing with some regulars for Thursday, so they won't need a lot of dress rehearsal time. But the madame's coming to watch Friday, so everything needs to seriously be up and running by then.”

“Shouldn't be a problem. I can stay late after the shows on Thursday or come in early in the morning Friday to start setting up. If that's okay with you, Allura.” Keith dropped his spoon in his empty bowl and put it on the tray. “Hunk, I commend you, dude. Best meal I've had in awhile.”

Hunk grinned. “Thanks. I’m always cooking something around here, so if you’re ever hungry, feel free to stop by the kitchen.”

“Sure thing. And if you ever need a guinea pig for anything you're testing out, I'll be happy to volunteer.”

“My guinea pig family grows.”

Pidge laughed. “You could probably turn the entire block into your guinea pigs if you wanted to, Hunk. I don’t actually think there’s anything you’ve made that isn’t delicious. Shut up, Lance.”

“Wha- I didn’t even _say_ anything!”

“You were making a face. It counts.”

“Pidge is right,” Keith cut in. “You are the pickiest eater I've ever met. I had to trick you into getting sushi with me that one time, and you wouldn't even _try_ it.” He smiled fondly at the memory. Lance had looked so betrayed, but had humored Keith anyway, ordering from the hibachi menu and absolutely refusing the sushi - _“It’s_ cooked _, I promise!”_ Lance had stubbornly shaken his head, lips pressed together. _“Doesn't matter. It's still not real food.”_ \- that Keith had offered him.

“Because I know better than to put fake food in my stomach. Sushi isn't _food_ , Keith.” It was such an old argument, the memory fluttering warm and pleasant through his mind. It had been so long since he'd let himself remember how good it had felt to be around Keith, to bicker playfully and tease. Lance shoved his shoulder, grinning. “You just suck your food down so fast, you don’t even taste it.”

“And you’re always the last one done because you won't shut up long enough to eat,” Pidge pointed out, gesturing at his half-full bowl.

“I just happen to know how to savor what I'm given,” he defended.

Keith hoped that would extend past food, because he wanted to give Lance everything, anything that would help make up for his actions. He wanted Lance to know just how much he meant to him, and hopefully he'd be able to “savor” their time together again. “Which is why you're still talking and not eating, right?” he teased.

He sighed heavily, shoving a spoonful into his mouth. “Y’know, I just came out here to have a good time, and I'm honestly just feeling so attacked right now.”

Keith threw his head back on a laugh. Lance was just as ridiculous as ever, and even though Keith rarely understood his jokes, they never failed to make him smile. “Oh my god, _stop_.”

Shiro chuckled. “The prevailing theory is that he doesn’t know _how_ to stop.”

Lance shrugged, trying not to let his gaze linger on Keith for too long. His laugh was still cute when he really let it out there, big and free. It still made his heart skip. “It's not a bad theory, honestly.”

“It's the only theory that makes sense,” Allura added with a warm smile. “How else would a grown man still be such a child?”

“I reached perfection at an early age,” he claimed, gaze dropping to his food so he could actually finish it. “There was no reason to accidentally give myself flaws by changing.”

“Oh, you are so full of crap,” Pidge laughed.

“Shitlord,” Keith mumbled, but the corners of his lips were still twitching up.

Lance elbowed him playfully. “Asshole.”

The conversation picked up again, shifting back and forth from work to afternoon plans. Lance managed to sneak in a few more teasing remarks about Shay to Hunk - “I don’t _like_ her! She’s- she’s just a chef whose talents I respect very much.” - and it was easy. If his pulse jumped every time his knee brushed Keith’s under the table, he didn’t have to say anything. He didn’t have to tell anyone. The ridiculous jumble of feelings and memories was his alone to deal with, and he would in his own way.

He just had to figure out what his own way ended up being since his own way really wanted to involve a repeat of their first and only kiss. His own way really wanted to pick up where they’d left off as though nothing had happened. Forgive, forget, move on - messy feelings had never been his forte, and they were all he’d felt since first walking into the room and seeing Keith’s face again. His really pretty face.

Fuck, he was bad at dealing with Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tentative schedule:  
>  ~~Ch. 1 - 11/12~~  
>  ~~Ch. 2 - 11/18~~  
>  ~~Ch. 3 - 11/25*~~  
>  ~~Ch. 4 - 12/2~~  
>  ~~Ch. 5 - 12/9~~  
>  ~~Ch. 6 - 12/16~~  
>  ~~Ch. 7 - 12/16~~
> 
> *Amy will be on vacation for Thanksgiving; this date is subject to change.


	3. Chapter 3

There were a dozen little things that had changed in the few years since college. Little quirks that had developed through adulthood and experiencing the “joys” of paying bills. Lance hadn’t exactly matured and had realized somewhere along the way that there wasn’t going to be a switch that would be flipped to turn him into the typical mature adult kids grew up expecting to become. He was himself and that was that. Accepting that, embracing that, had been among those dozen changes.

And with it had emerged his style. He’d never shied from his sexuality, was content to flirt with anyone he deemed attractive, and he’d enjoyed the freedom it gave him to also be an expert in skincare. It hadn’t given him the freedom to throw on a skirt and stroll around campus. At least in college it hadn’t. He identified as male, used male pronouns. His gender identity was solid. But when it had just been him in the dorm room - and Hunk, who’d grown up with Lance and had been the first person Lance had told about this preference - he’d been so happy to throw on a skirt. Blouse, dress, heels - he could rock some heels, damn it. He had the legs for them, then and now. It had only been acceptable in his room, though. If he went out or if someone dropped in, the feminine clothes went far away. No one but Hunk had known. Not Pidge and sure as hell not Keith.

His pulse fluttered a little when he pulled into his normal parking spot, glancing at the red motorcycle already in the next spot. Everyone knew now and he’d long since stopped caring what anyone else thought. And if Keith was going to come back into his life and stir him up, he was going to know too. Plus, he’d just bought his galaxy print bow. He deserved to wear his god damn galaxy bow. It matched the over-sized, off the shoulder sweater with its swirls of blue stars.

He smirked at himself in the mirror before climbing out of the car. He’d been tempted to do full face, too, but had left it at mascara. There was a blue lipstick in the pocket of his faded blue jean miniskirt if he felt like it later, but he was pretty enough without it.

He _was_ pretty, damn it, and he wasn’t going to let Keith’s presence make him feel nervous about it. He fucking refused. Confidence as much a shield as it was just a part of him, he strolled into work with a swing of his hips and his eyes on his phone since one of the queens for Saturday was considering a change to her routine. Nuh-uh.

“Lance, watch where you’re going!” Pidge snapped.

“But that’s so much effort,” he complained with a wry grin, glancing up before he could walk into a ladder. “What the hell are you guys doing?”

“Moving cameras and some lights. You gonna help or are you afraid of flashing your panties?” she teased.

“Pssh. As much as I paid for them, who cares?” He finished his text and looked up, pulse fluttering again when he found Keith’s eyes on him. “Morning, mullet.”

Keith’s heart _actually_ stopped for a moment before it started beating frantically, making him so lightheaded that he swayed on top of the ladder. _Fuck_ , Lance looked phenomenal. His gaze trailed slowly over Lance’s body, drinking everything in. He wanted to get his mouth on him, on all of that exposed, glowing skin, wanted to make a mark with teeth and tongue on his collarbone. The jean skirt - _a fucking skirt_ \- that he had on was just short enough to show off some thigh above his knees, accentuating the mile-long legs that Keith wanted to feel wrapped around his waist with those powerful-looking calves keeping him close. And _fucking panties_. Did Lance actually have on-

He whimpered, not able to stop the noise from escaping, as he felt another rush of vertigo and had to hold onto the top of the ladder with a white-knuckled grip. “H-Hi,” he managed, and _fuck_ he sounded like he’d just run a marathon, completely out of breath.

Lance’s smile was slow and smug. He may have been blind to the attraction in college, but this? Beautifully obvious. His already ample ego boosted. “As much as I would absolutely love to help, I need to get some work done. Plus, Keith looks like he’s going to fall off his ladder and break his neck. So I’ll raincheck.” But he reached up and patted Keith’s calf like an asshole as he strode by with a bounce in his step.

Keith waited until he had disappeared down the hallway before rounding on Pidge. “Fucking _what_?! Is- What?” He clambered down from his perch on the top rung, afraid of actually falling off. “Pidge, what the hell.”

“What, Lance?” She shrugged, but her lips were twitching in amusement. “He dresses up sometimes. Hunk said he used to do it in secret back when they were teens and in college, but then I found out by accident one day after we graduated.” She waved a hand. “He kind of just dresses up when he’s in the mood now. I kind of forgot that you didn’t know, but that reaction was- wow, you are so gay.”

“I know that, shut up.” Anybody who knew him knew that. He didn’t exactly flaunt it, but he didn’t bother hiding it anymore. “But Pidge, he- fuck, he’s _gorgeous_.” He was seriously considering just following Lance, but didn’t want to overstep; their relationship was still very fragile, and Keith wasn’t about to push boundaries. Not yet. “How? _Why_?”

“Well, how is pretty easy. He goes to the store and buys clothes. And, warning you now, never shop alone with Lance and never, ever, never shop alone with Lance _and_ Allura. They’re hellspawn.” Pidge shook her head, smile fond and amused. “The why... I don’t know? He just likes it. And you probably made his day reacting like that, jesus. He’s going to be insufferable.”

“That’s fine.” He’d deal with it. He’d rather him be insufferable and _upbeat_ rather than insufferable and a _dick_. “I just- Fuck, Pidge, you already know I still have feelings for him, and he obviously knows now.” This was not going to be easy. Keith could already feel the strings on his control fraying. It was only a matter of time until they would snap, and then he’d have to pounce.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” When he frowned at her, she tipped her head back to sigh gustily at the ceiling. How was Keith this much of an idiot? “Yeah, you just made it very obvious that you’re interested. And what did he do? He flounced out of here like he owns the place. That’s a _good_ thing. That’s a he’s-interested-too thing. Plus, space? You guys used to talk about stars and galaxies all the time. You took astronomy in sophomore year even though it was outside of your majors.”

Pidge waved her hands as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “Come _on_ , Keith! He dressed up _for_ you! Last time you guys danced around each other for two years and it blew up in your faces. Obviously, the way to make things happen this time is to actually be honest from the start. Lance doesn’t play games, man. Well, he does because this is Lance, but feelings? He doesn’t play with feelings.”

“Okay, Pidge. Okay. No more beating around the bush, right?” She was right, damn it. She was always right. But it wasn’t like he was trying to keep his feelings a secret from Lance, he was just trying to keep them bottled up for a bit while they got everything sorted out and gradually let them become known later. Instead, Lance had come waltzing in, totally confident in his skirt, and Keith could no longer hold the lid in place. “I’ll talk to him. Let’s just finish working first so we don’t fall behind.”

“Yeah. Work first, then you can sort out some more of your silly crap.” She snickered. “I can’t believe he basically made you swoon just by throwing on some old skirt.”

“Shut up. He’s still hot, and I am weak, okay?” He climbed back up the ladder now that his heart wasn’t trying to beat out of his chest as much. “Besides, you’ve had ages to get used to that. I’ve never known.”

“Uh-huh.” Pidge pulled out her phone to shoot off a quick mass text to the rest of the team. “If you’re really sticking this out, then you’ll have plenty of time to get used to it too.”

He blinked. “Of course I am. I’m not letting go of him. Not again.” And he hoped he’d be able to see a _lot_ more of Lance dressed up like he was because, yeah, he could totally work that look.

“Okay. It’s just... Honestly, if you abandoned him again, I don’t know what would happen.” But she had a very strong feeling that it wouldn’t be good. “We watched him go through it last time, and I know you were hurting too. I know it wasn’t easy even though I thought you were stupid then and still think it was a stupid choice. It’s one thing to drift apart, it’s another to snap something in half.”

“I know. I was such an idiot, Pidge. I can’t believe he gave me another chance. Honestly, I don’t deserve it, but I’m not gonna screw it up.”

Where Hunk had seen more of Lance’s pain, Pidge had seen more of Keith’s. She was willing to bet on him. “You'll be fine. Now hand me that camera. We need to be done by noon, slacker.”

\----

A quarter after twelve, Pidge leaned over Keith’s shoulder as they watched the video feed from the readjusted cameras. She nodded, pleased that her lighting effects didn’t interfere with the recordings. “Okay. I'm taking my lunch. You still going to talk to Lance?”

Keith nodded, leaning back from the monitors. “Yeah. I’m not gonna put it off anymore.” He stood up and walked with Pidge to the door. “What are you working on after lunch?” he asked, just to make conversation while they made their way down the hall.

“I need to start working on Sunday's shows. We’ve got regulars all weekend and, thank god, Lance is keeping any of them from making more changes so I can put my energy where it needs to be. Do me a favor, though, and find out what Lance wants for Kitty on Sunday. I’ve got a feeling things are going to change there.”

“Consider it done.” He stopped when they reached the door to Lance’s office, waving bye to Pidge while she went in search of food. Again there was music blasting from the speakers, so he knocked loud enough to hopefully be heard over it.

The music turned down a tick. “S’open, Keith!”

He opened the door and stepped in, shutting it behind him. “How’d you know it was me?”

Part of it had been hope. The rest common sense. “Nobody knocks unless the door’s locked. Who else but the new guy?” He shrugged, leaning away from his computer with an easy smile. “So who needs me for what?”

 _I need you_. “Uh, nobody. I just wanted to come talk to you.” He was thankful that the desk hid Lance’s legs, otherwise he wouldn’t be accomplishing much talking during this meeting. “If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, I was just wrapping up a few inquiries before heading for lunch.” And maybe he’d been hoping to catch Keith’s eye again. Being sought out was unexpected, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it. He wetted his lips and settled on wary. “But I’m good. What’s up, mullet?”

Keith’s gaze was glued to Lance’s mouth for a second, but he shook himself out of it and sat down in the chair across from him. He decided to put Pidge’s request on the back burner for now, needing to actually get the weight off his chest first. “I need you to know that the main reason I asked you for a second chance is that, well, I do still have feelings for you.” He dragged a hand through his hair then dropped it to his lap. “I can understand if you don’t, and I’ll be happy just being friends again once we get to that point. But, uh, Pidge said I should be straightforward with you. So… this is me, being straightforward.”

Whoa. Lance could only stare at him as seconds ticked by, mind and heart both racing. He’d seen it, sure. The whimper he’d let out had basically fueled Lance’s good mood that entire morning, but he hadn’t expected Keith to just come out and _say_ something. “I...” He couldn’t think of what to say back because, god, did he still have feelings in return, but he was trying to actually be a little careful. Fool me once and all. “I think Pidge knows me way too well. I- Fuck. I’ve got feelings for you, too. I- I’m not the one who walked away, you know? Of course I’ve still got feelings.”

“Yeah, I know.” He ducked his head, embarrassed, but he was smiling. Pidge was, of course, right again. “But I’m gonna do everything I can to try to make it up to you. I just wanted you to know where I was coming from.” Keith lifted his eyes to Lance’s. “Because if there’s a way we could possibly be more in the future, that’s what I wanna work towards.”

Lance shoved his chair back and threw his hands up in one motion and quickly whirled away from Keith because every single thing he felt always crossed his face and he knew it. Cripes, he hadn’t been ready for this. He’d fully expected Keith to avoid him the rest of the day or fumble or- or literally anything but this! But there he was with his stupid fucking smile on his stupid fucking face wanting _more_. And not even more now, but more when Lance was ready. What was he supposed to do with that? What was he supposed to say? What he wanted to say - “yeah, okay, wanna make out?” - was off the table. No. But there wasn’t a second option coming up to the plate.

And now he was mixing metaphors like a dumbass. Fuck. Fucking _Keith_.

He spun back towards him. He could be blunt. If Keith could be, so could he. “Look, I’m- Cripes, Keith.” Bluntness could be surprisingly hard. He jumped up, needing motion, and went to his office window. “The feelings are- They’re big, okay? But there’s some hurt and some scared mixed in there too. Last time I went for more, you walked away for a few years.” He turned to face him again, leaning against the wall. “How the hell am I supposed to know for sure that you won’t walk away after I kiss you this time?”

Keith was proud of himself that he’d managed not to stare, but it was difficult with Lance basically putting himself on display. He sighed, settling back into the chair, heart stuttering at his choice of words. Not " _if_ I kiss you”, but " _after_ ”, and- fuck, he was probably reading too much into this. “I can only give you my word that I won’t and hope that you can believe me, Lance.” He allowed his gaze to drop for just a short glance at his legs then snapped it back up. “I promise to never do anything like that to you ever again.”

He was bad at Keith, and very bad at denying himself what he wanted. Lance hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his skirt. “Then why the fuck are you still sitting there? Do you need a personalized invitation and directions to my mouth or what?”

“I-” Holy shit, _what_. Keith had not expected that. He’d walked in there with the hope that Lance did feel something back for him, but figured even if he did he would need some time to work through everything. He surely hadn't been expecting Lance to be offering himself up for another kiss so soon. But he wasn’t about to question it. He was out of the chair and across the room in two strides, pressing into his personal space. A hand rose to cup the back of Lance’s neck, the other to his hip, hovering for a second before making contact. " _Lance_ ,” he breathed, before closing the distance and bringing their lips together, and _god_ , it was just as good as he’d remembered.

Lance kept his hands to himself for a moment, wary of reaching out, wary of finding out that nostalgia had blown his memory of the kiss out of proportion. If they had, then his nostalgia goggles were broken because this was so much better. The mouth against his wasn’t trying to overcompensate for uncertainty by being too hard. It wasn’t a little too sloppy from alcohol. It was firm, sure. Promising.

Eyes closing, Lance’s lips parted for him on a murmur of acceptance and his hands lifted to curl into his shirt. _Stay_.

Keith let his own eyelids droop, grip on Lance’s hip tightening to press him closer. His tongue swept along Lance’s bottom lip before slipping into his mouth, brushing against Lance’s tongue carefully. A quiet moan escaped him at the taste, now that it wasn’t tainted with whiskey, sending small vibrations through the kiss. This was more than what he was hoping would happen when he first walked into Lance’s office and _god, why did I ever walk away from this?_

The kiss ended only when they needed air, Lance hiding his face in Keith’s hair before he could give in and dive back into another. His fingers flexed in the fabric of his shirt, uncertain whether he should push him away or drag him impossibly closer. Last time, he’d hauled Keith closer. Last time, his drunken laugh had been tinted with relief because _finally_. They weren’t drunk this time, but that sense of finally still rippled through him. Like he’d been waiting for Keith to come back, and if that wasn’t just the most pathetic thing... “Cripes, Keith.”

“Lance…” The hand on his neck slid up into short hair on impulse, gently combing it through his fingers. Sighing softly, he dropped his head to rest his chin on Lance’s shoulder, his other hand releasing its grip and sliding around his back, content to just hold him even if it was only for a moment longer.

“Just so we’re still on the same page, there’s nobody else while we figure this thing out. Not for you, not for me. And if it doesn’t work out,” he didn’t know what he’d do, “then it doesn’t work out. Don’t just ditch me again.”

“I won’t abandon you, Lance, I promise.” Keith took a deep breath, inhaling Lance’s intoxicating scent; that, too, hadn’t changed. “And of course there’s nobody else.” There hadn’t been for a long while now, with everything that had been happening to him, and he was hoping that this thing worked out so there wouldn’t ever have to be anybody after Lance.

“Okay.” Lance held him in place another moment, enjoying the warmth of his body, the firm line of it pressed against his. Why was he so weak for this asshole? Lance’s lips quirked a bit before he pushed Keith back a step. “You fucked up my hair,” he complained, unclipping the loose bow. But he didn’t fix it to his own hair, pushing the clip into Keith’s instead. It was a small claim, but it brightened his smile as he stepped away from him and started for the door. “Now I’m seriously starving, so I’m gonna see what Hunk’s got on hand. You coming or what, mullet?”

“Yeah, coming.” Grinning, he followed Lance out, happier than he’d been in… well, _years_. He reached up and patted the bow, making sure it was secure, but mostly just wanting to feel that it was there. “So why the skirt?” he asked, admiring Lance’s backside before catching up to him, their steps matching easily.

He shrugged. “Because it makes my ass look good and now it has the added benefit of almost making you fall off a ladder.”

Color flooded his face again. “You came strolling in with those _legs_ and your damn perfect skin on display. And _panties_ , Lance, _god_. How was I supposed to react?”

“It wasn’t a critique, mullet. Relax.” Lance had seen the full range of reactions, from utter disgust to interest and everything in-between. Nothing had matched Keith’s, and he wanted more. Free to flirt, his lips curved into a smirk. “In case you were wondering, though, I am definitely wearing a pair of panties.” He bumped their hips together casually and kept walking even though Keith had stilled. “And I always am.”

 _Fuck_ , Lance was going to be the actual death of him. _Panties_. He wondered what style they were, what color, the fabric. They were probably the same shade of blue as his nail polish. See-through lace, maybe. Or would Lance wear a thong? Satin or cotton? _God_ , he wanted to see them. They probably didn’t even completely cover Lance’s di-

" _Jesus_ , Lance!” He snapped himself out of it, rushing to catch up with him, his jeans now very uncomfortable. “W-will you show me?”

Lance had to bite his tongue to keep the agreement away. He’d kissed him, sure, but he still wasn’t even sure what label this weird... relationship? should have. “Maybe,” he decided. “Guess the color.”

“Uh, blue?”

Lance’s lips quirked, though he wasn’t quite sure what to make of the disappointment. Hell, he _wanted_ to show him. “I’ll let you try again later, mullet.”

“O-okay.” Hopefully his next guess was the correct one. Even if Lance only showed him a sliver of fabric, he’d have enough jerk-off material for the next month at least. “Honestly, I wasn’t expecting you to even consider. Just… god, that’s hot, Lance.”

“Yeah?” It had reached the point where they were normal for him, so Lance grinned easily. “I’d just rather have silk on my dick than cotton.” Amused, he swung open the kitchen door and stepped inside.

Brain now officially offline, Keith followed him in wordlessly, claiming a corner of the counter all to himself. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Lance, even when Hunk greeted them, tossing up his hand in a lazy wave in response.

“Hey, bud.” Lance propped a companionable arm onto Hunk’s shoulder, leaning against him. “Making burgers?”

“I had the meat and it’s what Pidge wanted. I figured you and Keith would wander in here eventually.” Hunk’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Is that-?”

“My bow,” he whispered back. “Mmhm.”

“So you- Is there a thing?”

“I want-” He bit his lip, considering. There was kind of a thing. “You and Pidge think I can trust him, right?” When Hunk nodded, Lance shrugged. “There’s a thing. Just trying to figure out what the thing is. Yo, Keith, you’re good with a burger, right?”

Keith was able to pull himself together after another moment, relaxing against the counters a little more. He was curious as to what Lance and Hunk were whispering about, but didn’t want to be an asshole and ask. “Yeah, sounds good.”

“Okay, no problem. I’m not doing fries or anything, since I’m supposed to be finishing stocking, not actually cooking for you guys. So grab chips out of the pantry.”

As though it was the biggest chore, Lance sighed heavily and crossed to the pantry he knew held chips. He crouched in deference to the short skirt to tug out the box of individual bags to dig out classics, and he ran his tongue along his teeth before grinning to himself. He was having fun torturing Keith. Why stop now? “You still like nasty sour cream and onion, don’t you?”

Keith wanted to argue that they weren’t nasty, thank you very much, but the skirt had ridden up the backs of Lance’s thighs _almost_ high enough to get a glimpse of his panties. Just a few more inches… “Y-yeah.” And now his mouth was dry.

Lance reached for the back, though it was unnecessary as there was a bag much closer, but it gave his hips a chance to lift. Thank you, yoga. He snagged the bag of chips, biting back his smile. He was only going to give him a glimpse rather than a full show, so it was with one fluid motion that he straightened his legs in a modified standing forward bend and rolled upwards until he was standing straight, hands pressed to the small of his back as if the move was to work out a kink and not exploit one of Keith’s.

 _Red, red, red, red_ … Keith whimpered again, the image burned in his mind. Lance was wearing _red panties_. It wasn’t a thong like he’d hoped for, but they were stretched over that glorious ass of his, shiny where the light hit them. That coupled with the obvious flexibility - _yoga_ \- had him shifting his legs, trying to relieve the pressure on his dick. Oh yeah, that was definitely going in his spank bank. “Th-thanks,” he squeaked when Lance handed the bag to him, and god, that was _embarrassing_.

This was the greatest sort of scenario he ever could’ve imagined when he’d gotten dressed that morning. Wearing the red was absolutely worth breaking his normal matching habit. He liked color-coordination, but Keith was helping with that too. Lance leaned in, a hand resting on the counter at either side of Keith, and whispered right into his ear, “Your face is almost the same color.” Amused, he kissed his cheek before wandering back over to Hunk to check the progress of their food.

At this rate, Keith would have to duck into the bathroom before the end of the day just to get some relief because _holy shit_ , Lance was such a fucking tease. He didn’t remember that from college. He brushed his fingertips over the spot Lance had kissed, feeling his skin blazing under his own touch. “Fuck,” he whispered, trying to adjust his jeans at least a little bit as he made his way over to Hunk and Lance. “Th-the burgers look great, Hunk.”

“Thanks, man. They won’t be anything fancy since, y’know, supposed to be stocking. We’re pretty booked all weekend.”

“Especially Sunday. It’s been two days, and both shows are packed.” Lance took as much pride in that as he did how obviously hard Keith was. “That’s gonna be a good day.”

“Yeah, no, don't worry about it,” he told Hunk, then, “and I can't wait to see what Sunday's shows bring. Actually, Lance, Pidge wanted me to ask you about what Kitty wants for her performance on Sunday.”

“What? Why would-” Lance cut himself off. _Oh_. “Actually, those haven’t been determined yet.”

Hunk blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Small change in her situation.” Really, really big fucking change. “If you see Pidge before me, let her know I’ll work on getting the answer.”

“Um, okay.” Keith decided not to ask and would just tell Pidge later what was going on.

Lance grinned, watching Hunk flip the burger patties onto buns with an enviable ease. The toppings were still out from Pidge’s burger, so Lance and Keith were able to load them up. “Yo, Hunk, can you wrap mine? I’m taking it back to my office. I’ve got to finish off a couple inquiries and then I’m out of here.” He had to figure out what to do with Kitty.

“Yeah, sure.”

Keith was tempted to ask if he wanted company, but Lance seemed to be on a mission, so let it slide. He was just relieved that he'd been able to rein in his arousal by now. “I think I'll join Pidge and see if she needs any help with anything else today.” He threw the bags of chips onto both of their plates and grabbed them off the counter. “I guess we'll see you tomorrow, then, Lance?”

“Yeah. I’ll-” Lance paused to stare at him. Tomorrow. Keith would be back the next day. They had a tomorrow. “I’ll be here around noon. The first dress rehearsal starts at one. Pidge already knows, but just remind her for me. And, uh...” He leaned in to press their lips together while Keith’s hands were full, keeping it briefer and far more chaste than the one they’d shared in his office. “Maybe tomorrow you’ll guess the color right,” he murmured and stepped back to grab his box. “Thanks, Hunk. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Keith smiled, lips still tingling from the short contact with Lance's. “Yeah, we'll be here,” he promised. _I'll be here_. “Bye, Lance.”

“See you.” He returned the smile, eyes a little wider and more hopeful than he wanted them to be, but he was quick to whirl and speed out of the room. He had shit to do.

\----

He wore a dress the next day. The cut was deceptively simple, but the navy fabric was a favorite for the way the skirt flared when he spun. Lance covered most of it in a hoodie, though, the ancient olive fabric found in the back of his closet. Wondering if Keith would even take notice, he pulled it on and sped to work, heart pounding when the red motorcycle zipped into its spot just as he was closing the driver’s door.

He shoved his keys into the jacket pocket, fists balled in both as he waited. He wasn’t going to beg for attention like he had last time, even though he craved attention like other people craved food. He could just wait and watch and hope. Keith had promised not to leave, damn it, not to abandon him again, and it was more than a little disheartening to realize that he hadn’t quite believed him after all. Trust wasn’t all there yet.

Keith killed the engine and hopped off, smiling softly when he saw Lance over the roof of his hatchback. He made his way around the front of the car, eager to greet him, but stopped short as his breath caught at the sight he was met with. “Wow, Lance. You look-” He looked incredible. Keith wasn't sure how Lance kept managing to pull off the skirts and dresses, but damn, they sure did work for him. The jacket didn't go unnoticed, either. Lance had spent all his time in college wearing it that Keith would be able to recognize it anywhere, anytime. “Stunning,” he finished. “And you found your old jacket. It actually doesn't look bad with the dress.” He finally moved closer, but left it up to Lance to initiate anything further.

“If you think I'd wear something that doesn’t match, you're all wrong.” He was still really, honestly there, and still obviously interested. Holy crow. Lance reached up to tangle his fingers in Keith’s hair, and swayed forward to seal their lips together. They were really a thing.

Sinking into it easily, Keith brought his hands up to cup Lance's hips and tug him closer, parting his lips on a soft sigh when he felt Lance's tongue peek out. It was still just as amazing as the first few times they'd done this, but the kiss now felt even better because it actually _did_ hold the promise of something more, wasn't just some tentative meeting of lips to find out if Lance would be disappointed or not the next day. Keith really hoped he hadn't disappointed him.

Lance moaned as his tongue slid over Keith’s, lightly tugging at his hair. He explored his mouth eagerly, greedily, backing him up against the hatchback’s door so he could press as close as possible. There was nothing even close to disappointment on his mind, just a euphoric sense of _I can have this_.

One of the hands Keith had on Lance’s hips slid around to press against his lower back under the jacket, the fabric just as soft as the last day he'd felt it clutched tightly in his fingers. Their hips met, chests already pressed close together, but Keith kept them motionless, gently massaging the small of Lance's back instead. He moaned to match Lance, their tongues tangling between them once Lance had mapped every inch of Keith’s mouth with his.

It ended on a whimper, Lance unable to help the sound when his dick was stretching the fabric of his panties. “Fuck,” he breathed, ready to rut against him right there in the parking lot. Keith had come back, he was staying. Not only did he not think of Lance’s crossdressing as weird, he was attracted to it. “Fuck, Keith.”

He could feel that Lance was getting hard, knew that Lance could probably feel his own arousal with how close they still were. “Yeah, god, Lance.” He squeezed his hip, leaning in to rest their brows together and breathe him in. Lance was obviously not disappointed.

“Okay. Since- since, uh-” Lance rocked his hips a little, just enough to give them both a teasing taste of friction. It had been a long time since he'd been with someone. “Since we’re obviously going to be having sex soon, top or bottom?”

Keith's dick twitched at Lance’s words and the small movement of his hips. “I usually top, but I’m not completely against taking it, either.”

Lance squirmed, wanting to get them both as hot and bothered as possible. “Team switch, I like it. Also important, are you clean?”

“Yeah, it- it's been awhile since I've been with anyone, but I keep up to date with my tests.” His grip tightened, rocking forward just a little. _Fuck_. “But I've never done anything without protection.”

Enjoying the frottage, Lance pressed a nippy kiss to Keith's neck. “You will now. I'm clean too, and I don’t want weird latex between skin when I'm riding you.”

Keith’s hips bucked more firmly, moaning loudly. " _Jesus_ , Lance. Yeah, oh my god. Gonna come inside you, make you so wet and _filthy_.” _Fuuuuuck_.

Lance was so tempted to unlock his car and push him onto the backseat to take what they both wanted right then and there. He’d waited patiently and carefully for two years once before and it had gone haywire. He didn’t want to wait this time. But not yet. He didn’t want him in the backseat, not the first time. He wanted to be in Keith’s bed, invading his space, taking it over and leaving his mark, his memory behind.

His hands slid down, pressing into Keith’s waist to keep him pinned against the car, and held his own hips arched away. “Guess the color.”

“Blue.” _Please_. He knew it was Lance’s favorite color, or at least hoped it was still Lance’s favorite, and was still willing to bet that Lance was all about color-coordination, yesterday aside.

“You’re lucky I felt like matching today.” Lance drew back, lips quirked. He wasn’t going to actually fuck Keith, but he wasn’t going to waste the arousal flowing hot and heavy in his veins either. “So how's the video feed for my office look?”

“It- it’s great.” He'd nearly forgotten about the cameras in there. Was Lance gonna- _Holy shit_. “Yeah, s’great.”

“Are you sure? Maybe you should go check.” Lance smirked, grateful that the loose dress hid his arousal better than Keith’s jeans hid his as he spun around. The skirt flared around his legs. “You are here to do a job, right? I wouldn’t want to keep you from it.”

Keith whimpered, eyes glued again to Lance’s legs and ass, and pushed himself away from the car, adjusting his dick in his pants. Lance was actually going to kill him. “Yeah, I'll- I'll go do that.” Right now. Because if Lance was gonna go do what Keith thought he was, he needed to be there to see everything as it happened.

Lance looked over his shoulder, smile smug, and strolled towards the door without another word.

\----

Lance’s erection hadn’t deflated much by the time he made it to his office. He didn’t look up at the camera, though he knew where it was. Right in the corner. He knew it had all the fancy features. Their offices all had the latest and greatest in order to keep paperwork and funds protected since Coran had decided that one safe wasn’t secure enough. He was immeasurably grateful for the show of paranoia as he strode around his desk to sink into his chair.

Wanting to give Keith enough time to get to his office, Lance pulled the jacket off to leave his shoulders bare but for two skinny straps and slid the sandals off his feet. He switched his computer on to crank one of his playlists. And then he really just couldn’t wait. He saw the camera shift, just a little, and felt fresh heat roll through him. God, did he love to be watched. Loved to put on shows. There was a reason he'd gone into theatre and dance, after all, and that craving for attention transferred well to sex.

He tipped his chair back, hips lifting, and slid his hands down the length of his body. It wasn’t his first time jerking it in the office, though he was normally careful to stay in the camera's blindspot. He was happy to keep himself front and center now, fingers bunching into the fabric of his dress to stretch it across his straining cock. He rocked his hips, eyes closing and teeth sinking into his lower lip as he rutted against the soft fabric for a few seconds.

Not wanting to leave a wet patch on the dress, he lifted his legs, feet settling on his desk with his knees bent and spread to best show himself off. He wanted Keith to want him, to ache for him. And, god, did it feel good knowing that he did. It felt more powerful, this knowledge that Keith wouldn’t do a thing Lance didn’t want. It felt important, _he_ felt important, like he had all the cards with Keith not even aware that he had a hold of Lance’s heart.

He slid the dress up, letting the fabric slide over his thighs and slowly, inch by inch, reveal the dark blue silk of his panties. It was a thong today to avoid panty lines, so Lance lifted himself higher off the chair to show off the curve of his ass. He didn’t have much in the way of hips, a permanent sorrow, but his ass was round and firm and he wanted Keith inside of it. He moaned, hoping it would be picked up over his music. He couldn’t wait to let Keith fill him, to feel him thick and throbbing and thrusting.

 _Fuck_.

Lance let the dress pool over his abdomen, holding the pose long enough for Keith to get a good look. Hips arched high, the dark blue silk pulled tight across his cock. The head poked over the top, lifting the fabric obscenely. He had to touch, a hand sliding down to rub against the cockhead, sliding through the pre already spilling freely. He wouldn’t last long, didn’t want to and didn’t care. He curled his fingers around himself, sliding down into the panties to rub beneath silk.

The other hand lifted up, two fingers sliding between his lips to get them wet, and he sucked on them in a teasing display of what he'd happily do to Keith’s cock. He loved the weight of a dick on his tongue, wanted to drink Keith down and swallow every spurt of jizz. The fingers fell out with a wet pop and slid down, shifting the strap between his cheeks out of the way. He let Keith watch, wanted him to watch, the way his head fell back and a moan spilled out when the first finger breached his hole. It thrusted in and out quickly, Lance not giving himself time to adjust before the second pressed in to begin stretching.

Noises spilled out, filthy, breathless moans as he fingered himself open and wished it was Keith. He’d wished for the same in college, jerking off quick and sweaty when he had a moment alone, muffling the sounds against his palm. But now Keith knew. Keith was _watching_.

Lance worked in a third finger, curling it to find his prostate, and his body formed a graceful arch on an outcry of Keith’s name as his hole clenched desperately around the digits. The hand on his dick had picked up speed, panties pushed down so he could pump freely. He knew his dick was impressive - thick, good length, and curved just a little to the left. After he let Keith fuck him, he'd very happily bend him over and return the favor. Hard and fast with Keith’s come still dripping down his thighs.

The imagery was so clear and, god, for the first time it was actually possible. “Keith!” he cried, letting the orgasm crash into him. Jizz spurted out over his hand, mussing his panties and splattering his thighs. His ass clenched and fluttered around his fingers for a few blissful seconds as he rode the wave of his release and basked in the pleasurable aftershocks.

Slowly, his hand slid out of his hole and tissues were grabbed from the box on his desk to quickly mop himself up and secure the panties where they belonged at his waist. He rose slowly, stretching comfortably, and the dress fell back into place as well. Oh, yeah, he was going to be with Keith soon.

He needed to wash his hands before he got to work, so sent a smug smile and blown kiss towards the camera before strolling out of his office as if he hadn’t just put on a hell of a show for an old flame and future lover.

He could hardly wait to see Keith again to find out if he'd enjoyed it.

He got his chance a few hours later as dress rehearsal with that night’s queens was drawing to a close. His hips were grabbed and he was whirled, a warm mouth pressed against his before his skirt had settled. His lips parted on a helpless sound, fingers catching in Keith’s shirt. _Oh_. Okay, he'd liked it.

Keith spent a few moments positively _devouring_ Lance’s mouth before pulling away, biting at his lower lip. “Lance, holy _fuck_.” His lips dropped down to Lance’s neck, kissing a path down to his collarbone and sucking lightly. It wouldn’t leave too dark of a mark, since they were still at work, but it was satisfying to see the slightly pinker spot contrasted against the rest of his skin. “I need a new keyboard now, thanks to you. I have no idea what I'm gonna write on the request for one to Coran.”

“Just write ‘spilled fluid.’ He doesn’t need the details.” Lance let out a breathless laugh, gripping Keith's shirt. “Guess the camera works.”

He chuckled, fingers flexing on Lance's hips. “Yeah. It's perfect. I especially like the slow-motion playback feature that came with the software.”

“Oh.” Lance shivered against him. “As long as you cut it out of the official tapes, you can slow-mo whatever you want. Do you have everything ready to handle tonight's show? Met with the security team and all that?”

“Yeah, everything's all set.” He pressed one last kiss to his neck and lifted his head back up. “We shouldn't hit any snags, but I'm prepared to deal with them if we do.”

Lance smoothed his hands down Keith’s back, humming. “That offer for food still on the table? I don't like bugging Hunk on show days, and we've got a couple hours free.”

He smiled. “Absolutely. Wherever you wanna go.”

There had been people in the past who hadn’t wanted to take him out when he was in a dress, or people who had hesitated. They'd never lasted long, so it was very nice to not see a hint of that here. It was another strong point in his favor and went a long way to reaffirming that trust. “Okay. We're taking Red.”

“Sure.” Keith smirked, but his pulse quickened. The thought of Lance pressed up along his back, his dress riding up his thighs from the wind and his cock resting against Keith's ass, was only making his arousal from earlier come back full force. “You ready to go or you wanna grab your jacket first?”

“I absolutely need my jacket. I remember how cold it is on the back of that thing, especially if you still go as fast as you used to.” Lance drew back, giving his thigh a fond pat. “Just let Coran know that the queens are changing. He’ll take care of them until we get back.”

“Will do.” He leaned in to press a short kiss to Lance's cheek. “I'll meet you outside?”

Of all the things to actually bring color to his face, the sweet gesture managed it. Lance nodded, lips almost shy in their curve. “I'll- Yeah. Yep. Be there in five.”

In ten longer than the estimate, Lance escaped the Lion’s Den. His lips were painted the same navy as his nails and were pressed briefly to Keith’s. “The queens got a hold of me. There was bickering amongst the ranks and Tiana Glaze wouldn't let me leave once they realized I was going out with blank face like a heathen. So whatever. I can, uh, I can take it off if it's too much?”

“No, it-” He swallowed thickly. “It looks good.”

Lance grinned. “I’m really liking that you’ve got this kink, buddy. I don’t know how well you’re gonna survive working at a drag club with your dick hard ninety percent of the time, but I appreciate it.”

“My dick doesn't get hard for every dude I see, Lance.” He had more self-control than that. Never mind that it'd been ages since anyone had caught his attention long enough for that to even be a possibility anyway. “Just you.”

“That might be the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” His smile went a little smug. “Come on, Keith. I’m hungry, and I really don’t care where we go. I kind of just want to ride.”

There was a restaurant he had in mind that was on the other side of town and it would certainly allow for a long enough ride on the bike if that's what Lance wanted. “Alright,” he smiled, smoothing his hands down the arms of Lance’s jacket. “How do you feel about Korean? There's a place on 4th and Main that makes great bibimbap.”

“That sounds made up and probably disgusting.” Lance gestured to the bike. “But fuck it, let’s go.”

Keith wasted no more time and swung his leg over the seat, waiting for Lance to climb on behind him before starting the engine. He revved it a few times, feeling her purr beneath him, then sped out of the parking lot, Lance's arms wrapping tightly around his waist.

The last time he’d been on a motorcycle, he’d been behind Keith. Wearing the same jacket, but definitely not the dress. He’d pretended then that they were on the way to a date and not some party with a hundred other people crowding their space. As much as he’d loved to dance and still did, sometimes spending time alone with your favorite person was the way to go. He pressed his lips to Keith’s neck the way he’d wanted to back then, a little amazed by how quickly Keith had slotted himself back into that role. The person he wanted to talk to, to be around. Like he’d never left at all. “This is still awesome!”

“Yeah?” Keith's grin was wide and bright in the front even though Lance couldn't see it, the skin on the back of his neck tingling where he’d kissed him. The arms around his waist tightened when he sped up coming out of a turn and he could feel Lance's cheek press into his shoulder blade so he could shield his face. He revved the engine again, picking up even more speed, knowing that Lance had always loved it when he flirted with danger.

Lance laughed against his back, past and present melding so seamlessly as they tore through the streets freely. He’d go anywhere Keith wanted to take him. Just the two of them. When the bike slowed to turn into the parking lot, he didn’t want to get off. The first time he’d realized how much he loved this asshole, it had been on this bike. And not a single thing had changed. “So after we eat, we need to figure out the most convoluted route back to the Den.” He kissed Keith’s neck again, lingering to leave the lightest tints of blue behind. “I might even give you gas money.”

Keith laughed, turning around enough to be able to kiss him briefly. “Okay. How much time do we have?”

He pulled out his phone, frowning at it. “Like, two hours. So, damn, might have to raincheck that.” Lance shrugged, reluctantly sliding off the bike and stretching comfortably. “But we’ve got time. Might have to push it back to Monday because we’re gonna be busy as hell until then, but yeah. Welcome to your first weekend at the Den.”

“Yeah, it’ll definitely be interesting.” He shook his head, disappointed that they didn't have more time to just hang out before they had to be back. Now that he had Lance all to himself, Keith wanted to spend as much time alone with him as he could get. But he understood that work took precedence, so climbed off the bike after Lance, stuffing the keys into his pocket. “Alright, Monday then. We can take Red anywhere you want.”

It was an old sentiment, but it felt as strong as the feelings swirling inside of him. Lance reached out with a smile, taking Keith’s hand in a way he would’ve been too nervous to risk in college. “How about the stars?”

The corners of Keith's lips quirked as he laced their fingers. He knew exactly where Lance wanted to go, could picture it clearly in his mind as if he was just there yesterday, though it had been years. A vast expanse of land, covered in lush grass, far enough out of the city limits that the night sky wouldn't be obscured by the bright lights. There was one lone oak tree that jutted into the horizon, breaking up the monotony of the plains. They’d spent many nights under that tree, watching the sunset and naming the constellations as they appeared, back when they used the fact that they were in the same astronomy class - _“It’s research”_ \- as an excuse for doing something so romantic. Keith had always had the strongest urge to nudge his hand over the few short inches it would have taken to tangle their fingers together on top of the blanket they'd brought with them, but chickened out every single time.

Not this time.

He leaned in close, bringing their lips together for a kiss that was more emotional than Keith had planned. “That- that sounds perfect.”

Lance opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out for once. He wanted to go right then. Shirk their responsibilities and just go. But he settled for stepping closer, free hand lifting to tangle in Keith’s hair. “Kiss me like that again,” he murmured, laying his lips over Keith’s to wade into the emotion he’d only gotten a glimpse of.

They were still standing in front of the restaurant, in the parking lot where anyone and everyone could see them, but Keith didn't care as he backed Lance up to rest against the bike. He let go of Lance's hand to lift both of his, framing Lance's face and pouring every thought and feeling he'd ever felt for him into this one contact. His tongue lapped at Lance's lips, probably making his lipstick smear and fade, but not able to give a shit about something so trivial when he had Lance shivering under him.

It wasn’t wading, but drowning. Lance never wanted to come up for air, arms wrapped around him to keep him close. He never wanted to let him go again. His lips parted on a soft sigh, eyes closing when tears pricked them. This was more than he ever could’ve dreamed in college, more than he’d dared to dream since, so he poured himself into the kiss in return. He matched Keith beat for beat, old regrets tangling with new possibilities. Old hopes overlapped by fresh discovery. Memory coated in experience.

The kiss broke on an overwhelmed gasp, though neither could’ve said who made the sound. Lance quickly caught Keith’s wrists to keep his hands warm and sure on his face. “I hate that you left,” he whispered and his eyes fluttered open, unshed tears clinging to his lashes. “But I love that you came back.”

“I'm here, Lance, and I'm never leaving again.” His thumbs brushed over his eyelashes carefully, gathering the wetness from them. “I promise.”

Lance’s fingers flexed over his wrists before he let go to wrap his arms securely around Keith to bring him closer. “Okay. I- I’m still kind of scared? And I can’t tell you when I won’t be, but...” Sighing, he tucked his chin on Keith’s shoulder. “I’ll trust you.”

Keith's arms slid easily around his shoulders. “Thank you. If it gets to be too much, tell me and I'll back off. I don't want to do anything to scare you off or make you uncomfortable.” He turned his head, pressing a kiss to Lance's hair. “Now let's go eat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tentative schedule:  
>  ~~Ch. 1 - 11/12~~  
>  ~~Ch. 2 - 11/18~~  
>  ~~Ch. 3 - 11/25*~~  
>  ~~Ch. 4 - 12/2~~  
>  ~~Ch. 5 - 12/9~~  
>  ~~Ch. 6 - 12/16~~  
>  ~~Ch. 7 - 12/16~~
> 
> *Amy will be on vacation for Thanksgiving; this date is subject to change.


	4. Chapter 4

Their actual first date - and that was an incredible way to think about things with their history - was much less awkward than the meal had been Monday. They hadn’t gone in until Lance had cleaned the blue from Keith’s mouth and reapplied it to his own. There was enough staring and glances shot their - Lance’s - way without blatant signs of kissing everywhere. He actually felt a little bad for asking Keith out while in a dress. Everyone else was used to going out with him and Lance could usually ignore the looks because they all did. Even though Keith didn’t mention the gazes, Lance could feel them prickling over his skin. If they actually bugged Keith, he’d say something, right?

Right. So Lance did what he always did - lifted his chin and squared his shoulders. He could wear what he wanted where he wanted, damn it. And Keith’s obvious appreciation was all that mattered. It was surprisingly easy to lose the discomfort when he was rediscovering Keith anyway, eyes as bright as his smile while they rehashed old stories and regaled each other with new ones. There was also the playful game of footsie under the table that Lance decided to claim victory of since he’d gotten Keith to blush and stutter over their order to the waitress by skimming his toes up his shin. Keith called it cheating; Lance called it winning.

But it was nice to actually get to know him again, to still be able to playfully bicker and tease while holding hands across the table. The comparisons between then and now didn’t seem so heavy anymore, and the elemental attraction that had tied his stomach into knots then now gave Lance pleasantly fluttering butterflies because his friend was cute and he could tell him so without fear of negative repercussions. He’d never honestly believed he would have this again, so was going to hold every single moment close and never let go.

Keith tried to ignore the staring, knew that nearly every eye in the place was on them - mostly Lance - as they sat with fingers linked on the tabletop waiting for their food. But it was difficult to put them out of his mind. Of course, he didn't care that Lance was in a dress - he could have been wearing a crop top and leggings for all that he cared - because he believed that people should be able to wear what they wanted, whether in private or out in public, without being judged for it. But that was exactly what was happening here, and he did care that the lingering gazes were ones of confusion and disgust, wanted desperately to protect Lance from all of them.

Whether or not Lance was hung up on the stares, he didn't know, but Keith still squeezed his hands a little bit tighter, smiling at him across the table. “They're just jealous, you know.” His voice was dropped low enough for only Lance to hear him; he needed him to know that he wasn't embarrassing Keith just because of the way he was dressed. That would never be an issue with him. “Not everyone can look as good in a dress as you do, Lance. I still think you look incredible.”

The compliment derailed his train of thought, but it was easy for Lance to smile. “It doesn't bother me like it used to. Like when I first started wearing what I wanted wherever I wanted, it was kind of a problem.” He'd always been able to pull off confidence, and it was one of the few things that had genuinely shaken that. “But then I'd go out with Hunk and he'd actually try and glare back at people, and it cracked me up. Like, buddy, I love you, but your mean glare makes you look constipated. And then Pidge made it easier because the whole genderfluid thing. She'd lift her chin and tell whatever salesperson or waiter that she wanted he/him pronouns, like daring anybody to correct her.

“And then my favorite was this day where Shiro actually hauled off and popped some asshole in the face for flipping my skirt up. He was maybe a little tipsy because we were all out trying to get him to admit his little hangup for Allura, but we still weren't expecting it. Just that sudden swing and the guy went down. It was the absolute best moment ever, hands down.

“So it's really hard to be bothered by other people when your friends are fucking amazing. Plus, not all the attention is negative.” Lance shrugged. “It doesn't matter either way because I know what makes me feel good and I know exactly what makes me look good, so I'm happy doing my thing.”

Keith nodded. He got that. It was important for people not to limit themselves from doing things that made them happy, even if it made others uncomfortable. Lance obviously had no problem with it. “I know, I just- I want you to know it doesn't bother me, either. Just in case you had any doubts.”

Lance shook his head. “I've been with people who’ve had a problem with it, so I know what to look for.” At least he'd learned the basics, not being the most observant of people. “It's always nice to get a confirmation, though, so thanks, pretty boy.”

Keith almost choked on the sip of water he'd just taken. That was a nickname he hadn't heard in ages, since the last time Lance used it. _“You don’t like it because you've never had the right taste.”_ Keith had smirked at him over the stupid red solo cup clutched in his hand, the scent of whiskey strong in his nose. The offer had tumbled from his lips before his drunken brain could stop it. _“Want one?”_ Lance’s eyes had widened, his own cup crinkling under his fingers. But he’d never been one to back down from a challenge, and had returned Keith’s smirk slowly. _“Show me what you’ve got, pretty boy.”_

God, he’d actually missed being called that. As much as he'd pretended to hate it back at school, after a while he'd gotten used to it, had even gotten disappointed when Lance used other nicknames. It was special, something that only Lance was allowed to call him, because Lance was the only person whose opinion of him mattered at the time. It didn't seem like it was going to be any different this time around.

He took another careful sip of water, smiling brightly at Lance over his glass. “No problem.”

Lance smiled back, giving his hand a squeeze. “Wait, are you actually letting me call you that without being a bitch about it? What happened to 'shut up, Lance?'”

“Maybe I missed it.” _Just like I missed you._ He shrugged. “Honestly it grew on me after awhile. The ‘shut up, Lance’ became more force of habit than anything else.”

“Okay, cool. Because you're definitely still pretty, and I'm definitely not going to shut up about it now that you're finally mine.” Lance lifted their joined hands to press a kiss to the back of Keith's, lips firm enough to leave a blue imprint. He definitely needed to switch brands with the way this one transferred, but the color was worth it.

“Yours, huh?” He blushed at the sweet gesture, admiring the pop of blue against his skin. Lance was already leaving his mark. He'd have to figure out a way to leave one of his own because Lance was definitely his and he was never giving him up. “I like the sound of that.”

Lance prodded his shin beneath the table, smirking. “You'd better. It's non-negotiable, pretty boy.”

“As long as you realize it goes both ways.” Keith trailed the toe of his boot up Lance's calf, hooking his foot behind his leg. “You're mine now, Lance. I'm not letting you go.”

Lance leaned back, leaving his hand in Keith’s as their food was set in front of them. He was just fine belonging to him in return. He'd wanted it in college, and there was no denying that he wanted it now when he knew better what it meant. No one had managed to stir up this possessive submission in him before or since Keith, and he couldn’t imagine that anyone else ever would.

When they were left alone again, his contemplation melted into a smile. “You know, I think you're going to end up being worth the wait, Keith.”

“Yeah?” He was hoping so. “As much as I know it hurt both of us… it was probably a good thing. I- It gave us time to discover ourselves, you know? We're more mature now and able to communicate, not angsty teenagers who hide their feelings.” He picked up his chopsticks and popped a piece of beef in his mouth. “I'm not saying it was the right thing to do, but… I can't help but feel like fate brought us back together.” And he didn't even really believe in fate, but here they were.

Lance wasn't ready to go so far as to call it a good thing, but he wasn't feeling petty enough to clap back since he at least understood what Keith was trying to say. He still stuck his tongue out. “First, you were the angsty one, pretty boy. Second, I'm okay with calling it fate. Or it's just me continuing to be awesome at my job.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, on paper Allura has me as Networking Specialist, which is just a very fancy way of saying secretary. I'm okay with that since it's what I ended up being stuck with after college. But I consider my real job title to be Keep Coran Away From Shit.” He grinned. “It's how everyone else got their jobs.”

“Really?” Keith was actually pretty impressed. “How did you manage that?”

“Holy shit, okay.” Lance set his fork aside, prone to talking with his hands. “So when I first got in there, the place was in shambles. Well, okay, that's not one hundred percent true. But they were missing so many essentials! They didn't even have a Facebook, and their website looked like it had been designed in 1993 on dial-up and hadn't been updated since. There were sparkling graphics, okay? It was disturbing. So that's what I pushed Coran out of first. I took over handling queens and the social networking. Then I realized that he was in charge of menu and hadn't changed things in years. Also had to update that, so I stole Hunk away from his sous chef position and got him an interview for new head. Do you know what happened with Pidge?”

Keith was amused by Lance's dramatics, his hands flailing everywhere while he spoke. There was a reason he'd gotten straight A’s in all his major classes and Keith could clearly see that now. “I knew she had gotten caught trying to hack into something, but I never got the details,” he admitted.

Lance laughed. “Try not to say the word 'caught' if you bring this up to her because she'll go into a long, drawn out explanation as to the difference between getting caught and being suspected of. I'll spare you and just say that she was never legally charged for hacking the mcfreaking Pentagon because she's insane. It was right after her brother's carrier got boarded and everything was hush hush, so she took it upon herself to find out what was going on. Her employers didn't exactly like that her work computer was among the literal hundreds involved in this hack and, come on, it's Pidge. Everyone knew it was her. So I snagged her for effects to get Coran and his disco ball aesthetic the hell out of our shows.”

“Probably a good thing you got her out of there, then. I had no idea all of that went down.” It wasn't that Keith hadn’t been talking to his friends the past few years, but their conversations were short when they did manage to talk. He'd definitely have to ask Pidge about it at some point. “What about Shiro? How'd you get him?”

“Joint effort with Pidge since she knew him through her dad. But she dragged him into a few shows to get him out of the house and, come on, you could tell he had a thing for Allura from a mile. So on Pidge's twenty-first birthday we're at the Den for a just-us party since it was a Tuesday, and Coran's torturing all of us behind the bar. He makes this thing - you'll see it on the menu if you haven't already. Nunville? I swear to god, it tastes like hot dog water and feet.

“So we have it on special because if you can actually drink one of them without gagging, you get free drinks the rest of the night. It has yet to happen. So I already knew Shiro could mix drinks because I've been over twenty-one a few years longer than Pidge, and I asked him to make me a margarita. Like really made it as complicated as I could without making it impossible. He slid it over in five minutes and Allura offered him a job that night.”

Keith nodded, and on a whim since Lance hadn't been eating, reached across the table with his chopsticks to shove some rice into his mouth. “So how did I come into play?” he asked, blushing and going back to his own food.

“Um.” Lance had to pause, his mental flow completely rocked. He could barely hold chopsticks, let alone use them on rice and especially not across a table. “How the hell-? No. Never mind. I'll just assume you have magic hands because there's no other explanation.” Holy shit.

“Anyway, you getting into the Den. Yeah. Security.” Lance tapped his fingers to the table. “So I kind of thought we were fine as is on that front. Coran was still doing a million things, but he was away from the main areas. And because I am an A plus networker, we have good queens and our clientele doesn't suck because our image is a pretty good deterrent against trash. Well, some stuff was slipping, some equipment’s been getting old. All the normal, obvious junk that we should've seen coming. And then this neanderthal asshole had a personal issue with a queen, brought it in, and I had to solve the problem mid-show and keep everything on track.

“So at the end of the night, I had Pidge show me what the situation was with security and it's what you walked into. Hellhole, right? I told Allura at the end of that Monday meeting that maybe we needed someone full time and Shiro was right there and said he knew a guy.” Lance aimed finger guns at him, grinning. “And there you are.”

“And here I am.” He shook his head, smiling fondly. “And you’re _still_ using the finger guns. I guess some things never do change.” Lance was still a dork. More confident and flirty and definitely more mature, but still just a dork. Keith loved it.

“Excuse me, but I've seen you do finger guns before. This is not isolated just to me, mullet.” Lance picked up his fork, studying the whatever-it-was Keith had ordered for him with some suspicion. He poked at the rice, eventually trying some. Okay. Trustworthy, he decided. “For the record, though, I'm really glad I'm awesome at my job.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They continued to eat in companionable silence for a while, picking up their game of footsie under the table again, until they were both full and pushing their bowls away from them. Keith hadn't let go of Lance's hand the entire meal, and he gave it another squeeze when the waitress came back to clear their dishes and let them know she'd be back soon with the check. A thought from yesterday came back to him while they waited, and he figured now would be the perfect time to ask. “What's the deal with Kitty? You got all flustered when Pidge had me ask you about her yesterday, and from what I've seen so far, the queens don't seem to have that type of control over you. So…?”

Lance hummed, considering his response as he ran his fingers over Keith’s palm. He wasn’t quite ready to explain that one. “It’s complicated. Kitty Gallo is the most regular of the regulars at the Den, but something pretty big happened this week and I didn’t really realize how that would affect the show until you said something about her.”

Keith shuddered slightly under the gentleness of Lance's fingers, the touch feeling more intimate than any other they'd shared before. “What happened?”

“Love.” Lance lifted his gaze from their hands to meet Keith’s, lips curved. “It’s hard to get bigger than that.”

“Yeah…” Keith was aware of that, especially with Lance sitting across from him, still petting his hand. There were times in school when he thought he’d actually loved Lance, or _could_ love him, but it had scared him, and was another reason he pushed him away. God, he’d been stupid. But now, being with Lance again and having this chance, he finally figured it out. “It is.”

The waitress came back before they could say anything else, setting the bill on the table. Keith was quick to snatch it up before Lance could even think about it, sliding his card into the slot and handing it back when she walked by again. She returned a few moments later, and after signing the receipt, grabbed Lance's hand and pulled him from the booth.

When they got outside to the bike, he took another moment to admire Lance in the dress again, slipping his hands down slim hips and smoothing the skirt down. “Will you dress up again the next time I take you out?” He dropped his lips to Lance’s neck, kissing a path up to his ear. “You just look so gorgeous, Lance. It's still hard to believe that I get to finally call you mine.”

Lance smiled, cheeks pink from the praises and kisses spilling from him. “I can dress up, yeah.” He curled his fingers into Keith’s shirt, keeping him close. “I definitely don’t have a problem looking gorgeous.”

“Good.” Keith's mouth finally trailed back to Lance's, pressing a kiss to his lips while his hands gripped Lance's waist and lifted him up onto the bike.

Lance squeaked into the kiss, fingers digging into Keith’s shoulders. “Holy shit. That’s a thing you can still do. Okay.” He laughed, pulling him closer. “You’re just trying to make me shorter than you.”

Keith smirked. “Maybe.” He gave Lance one more kiss before drawing away. “We should probably head back. We do have a show tonight.”

Lance hummed, checking his phone for the first time since they’d arrived. Which was unlike him, really. Show nights, if he bothered leaving the Den, he never went more than ten minutes without checking to be sure that no crises had developed in his absence. In the hour and a half he and Keith had been gone, he had a handful of messages. Most were tips from the queens he was closer to, explicit enough to make him snicker, but nothing monumental. All seemed well. “Y’know, technically, we have another thirty minutes before we need to be back. So if you wanted to add a few extra roads on our way back, I wouldn’t complain.”

“Absolutely.” He nudged Lance far enough back on the seat so he could climb on, waiting while Lance got his legs situated before starting Red up again. They shot out of the parking lot a second later. Keith made sure to take all the back roads, giving him more freedom of speed without worrying about traffic. Lance clung to him, still laughing into the fabric of his shirt, arms tight again around his waist, and it all just reaffirmed his earlier discovery at dinner that yeah, he was totally in love with Lance.

They pulled into his spot at the Den five minutes late, but Keith couldn't have cared less when Lance dragged him off the seat and sealed their lips together again.

The only comparable thrill to being on the back of his bike was the one that shivered down his spine when his mouth was on Keith’s. Heat flared as strong as the excitement as his hands dove into the windblown mullet, his tongue diving between Keith’s lips to explore and memorize. He wanted to get back on the bike and ride it for hours. He wanted to push Keith back onto the bike and just ride _him_ for hours. It was such a strong tie into the way they’d been then, an incredible link to the way they were now or could be in the future, and all in one exhilarating package.

They were ten minutes late before they broke apart, Lance’s fingers digging tightly into Keith’s forearms and his bright blue eyes dark with want. But there were three shows to go through, and he couldn’t ignore that the way he was ignoring the phone buzzing in his pocket. Being an adult fucking sucked. “I- I’m really glad you kept that bike.”

Keith hummed, letting his hands slip from Lance's hips around to his ass, squeezing just slightly through the fabric of the dress. He loved knowing that it was the _only_ fabric in the way of bare skin, his dick twitching at the memory of Lance showing off his thong to him on camera. “Me too,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Your lipstick is smeared again, by the way.”

“Fuck.” Lance shuddered, pushing back into his hands. Responsibilities or not, he’d melt into a passive puddle if Keith kept touching him. “This is-” The softest of whimpers escaped when those wicked hands squeezed, and he had to start again. “This is so not a brand designed for making out, but all the brands that last are boring colors.”

“I'm sure if you asked a few of the queens, they’d be happy to give you some tips.” He smirked, squeezing again one last time just to hear Lance make more of those delicious noises before he pulled away. “Now come on. We're now like fifteen minutes late. Allura’s probably wondering where we are.”

Lance pulled out his phone, looking over the texts. “Pidge and Coran. At least, that’s who’s looking for me.” And all he wanted to do was lead Keith back to his office so they could share his desk chair. “Come on, mullet. If you survive all the shows, you’ll get Sunday’s second one off. And that’s the one you want to see this week, trust me.”

“I'm looking forward to it.” He reached out and slipped his hand into Lance's, tangling their fingers together. “Let's go inside.”

Grinning, Lance tugged him in and got to work.

After giving Keith over to Coran since he couldn’t really be expected to handle his first show on his own, Lance checked in with Pidge first to make sure that everything was queued and ready for that night’s first show. They had thirty minutes before people would start to arrive, forty-five minutes before they could start seating people. In an hour and fifteen, give or take, that night’s emcee would roll out and get the crowd hyped. All five acts had two songs, so there were ten chances for things to go horribly wrong.

He sent out a few pre-show tweets and posted a status while Tiana Glaze and the rest teased him about his mussed lipstick and demanded gossip. Lance gave them the bare bones, mostly hyping how cute Keith was despite an awful mullet, and it appeased them. It kept them from bickering or panicking when a tube of eyeliner went missing or when Sydney Soirez told Mira Cull that her lipstick didn’t match her dress. And he somehow had to keep them from tearing at each other in pre-show nerves with a straight face. But he filed it away to tell Keith later.

He found himself filing a lot of things away, tucking anecdotes aside to make him laugh when they next had a moment alone. He just wanted to talk to him, itched to steal out of the dressing room and find Keith just to press close and talk. God, it really was just like college all over again but with the added benefit of hand holding. And kissing. He borrowed a top gloss from Mira that would help keep the color on his mouth and not Keith’s when they next locked lips. Bless stage makeup.

He gave in to the urge to at least try and see Keith as six drew near and the rumbling of the crowd joined the low music. He was mostly shadowed in the archway, hidden by the curtain as he gazed out at the crowd. It would be their smallest and quietest of the night, full of the middle-aged women who were out on the town with friends but had work the next day or the older folks who were a little uncertain about the spectacle they'd come to see. Some were the older members of the LGBT community who turned in early at night, but weren't too old not to toss some dollars at some pretty men dressing up like pretty women.

He knew most of them through the Facebook posts, the younger ones fueling twitter, which amused him. But the older generation was chatty, and Lance knew better than to ignore their input. The past shaped the future, after all. And, wow, did he know all about that.

Lance caught sight of Keith largely because he'd recognize that mullet anywhere. It helped, too, that the tips of Coran’s hair glowed in the blacklights. They were against a wall, Keith’s gaze on the papers Coran was showing him, and Lance’s fingers curled into the curtain like a lovestruck teenager instead of a grown mcfreaking man. It was just difficult to resist when he looked so serious and focused. Lance really wanted to go be the distraction, make those warm lips curve upwards rather than down. That had been his mission more than once in college, poking and prodding at Keith until he'd give in and let out one of those full-bodied laughs. Lance had done everything he could to show him how he felt.

Everything but say it out loud and risk that rejection. But that was the past shaping his future. Silence had ended in sorrow, so he'd be vocal this time. He'd tell Keith how he felt, what he wanted. He'd put on private shows for him until he was ready for a duet... And then he'd probably still put on private shows. There had to be some perks to dating the head of security. Some exhibitionism seemed like a very nice perk for them both, unless Keith kept ruining his keyboards.

He hummed, retrieving his phone as he stepped back into the hall to check on the queens one more time before the show.

Keith waited until Coran had finished talking before pulling his phone out, smirking down at the text from Lance. His thumbs flew across the screen, typing out a quick response that he hoped would get his message across.

Holy shit, okay. Lance squirmed a little when he had a chance to look.

Of course Lance would get it right on the first try, but his wardrobe hadn't changed much over the years, and Lance had been the one to tell him red looked better on him than any other color anyway. It had quickly become his favorite.

Instead of immediately confirming that Lance was correct, he fired off another text.

A lifetime.

Lance slumped against the wall of the dressing room, smirk fading into wide-eyed surprise. Holy shit. Did Keith-? Was it even possible? Could Keith love him too? It took him a bit longer to respond, mind reeling and heart racing as he helped get the next two queens out to do their thing.

He and Keith really were more honest than they’d been, more open. At least more willing to try and be both of those things.

Keith smiled down at the messages when he had another free moment. God, if Coran was this bad during the other two shows, Keith would have to ban him from helping. He could handle this, damn it. But he snuck away again for a minute to answer Lance.

He stowed his phone again, letting Coran drag him back to work. The show should only last about twenty or so minutes more anyway, and then he'd be able to escape and see Lance again. To back him into a corner and kiss the life out of him. His offer of a lifetime had been a spur of the moment decision, almost regretting it the moment he'd sent it because what the hell, they'd only been together for a couple of days. Though those couple of days already felt like a lifetime with all their history behind them, and Lance _wanted_ it anyway. And now Keith couldn't wait to see what that lifetime would bring.

Keith was able to steal away from Coran just as the last group of audience members was leaving. There hadn't been any issues, thankfully, so he took the opportunity to leave him by the doors to go find Lance before they began seating for the next show. He found him in the back of the dressing room, watching the queens to make sure there weren't going to be any arguments, though he hadn't seemed to notice Keith until he sidled up close to him. “So, thirty minutes, right?”

He’d been expecting him, so only jumped a little. “Give or take. It starts quarter after, and I need to be back in here by eight to make sure they’re ready.” He smiled. “What do you think you can do for me in thirty minutes, pretty boy?”

“Hopefully blow your mind.” His hand found Lance's, tugging him away from the wall. “Let's go somewhere more private.”

“Luckily, my office has a lock on it and is right next door. And I happen to know the guy in charge of cameras, so that shouldn’t be a problem.” Lance went with him willingly, only lifting a hand in a quick wave when the catcalls started. “You’ve got their approval, mullet.”

Like he needed it, but he smirked anyway. “Good to know.” He pulled Lance the short distance down the hall and into his office, locking the door behind them before pushing him up against it, immediately attacking Lance's mouth with his lips. It was better, somehow, than the kiss they'd shared in the parking lot of the restaurant, deeper, more passionate. He nipped Lance’s lower lip until he opened up, hands going back to grope his ass again.

Lance moaned into it with abandon, hips rocking forward to grind against him and back to seek more of the attention from his hands. “Keith,” he groaned, needing to say his name. “Keith, please.”

Pressing his smirk into Lance's lips, Keith slid his hands down to the backs of Lance's thighs and lifted him up, making those long legs wrap around his middle. “Will your chair support two people?” he asked, already leaning away from the door to cross the short distance to the desk.

“It should. We're about to find out.” Lance dragged a hand through his hair, fingers tangling in the dark mass. “A mullet shouldn't be this sexy. God _damn it_ , Keith.”

He laughed as he sat in the chair, Lance perched on his lap with legs on either side of Keith's hips. “I'm sorry my hair is distressing you so much.” He leaned up and kissed him. “I could help you forget about it for a minute?” His fingers skimmed up Lance's thighs, slowly pushing the dress out of the way but stopping just before he could get to what he wanted most.

Lance whimpered, shameless in his pursuit of pleasure. Hands still in his hair, he dragged Keith’s head back so he could briefly seal their lips together. “Touch me.” At least some part of him had been waiting years to feel those hands on him. His mouth skipped down to his neck, sucking and nipping on a high spot, leaving an impatient, eager claim.

Keith moaned and finally flipped the skirt up. His mouth watered at the sight of Lance's cock straining the blue fabric of the thong, the head already peeking out over the waistband. He hadn't been able to get a good look earlier, the camera feed grainy and not able to zoom in as much as he'd like, but now… He shoved the dress up Lance's torso, bunching it under his armpits to keep it out of the way, and then dropped a hand to his dick, rubbing lightly through the panties and swiping his thumb across the tip. He lifted it to his mouth and sucked the pre off before returning it to Lance's cock. “You taste so good, Lance. I can't wait to get you in bed.”

Lance whined, a hand falling to Keith’s shoulder to anchor himself as he bucked up into his hand. He'd come more than once to the feeling of silk alone, Keith’s dark eyes and approval sending shockwaves through his system. “I want- Wanna know what you thought about when you watched. What you wanted to do to me.”

“Mm, at the time?” His hand pressed more firmly, wrapping his fingers around Lance and stroking with the fabric. “I thought about coming in here, opening you up and getting your hole nice and wet with my tongue so I could bend you over the desk and take you. You wouldn't have even needed to take your panties off, I could've just fucked you with the strap pulled to the side.” He started moving faster, using his other hand to alternate pinching at Lance's nipples. “And then I would have sucked you off, swallowed everything you could give me. _God_ , Lance, I want it.” His hips bucked up, desperate for attention to his own dick. “Unzip me, _please_.”

His fingers fumbled like an inexperienced virgin, but Lance didn’t have time for embarrassment when he was being drowned in sensation and fantasy. “Fuck. _Fuck_ , Keith. My Keith. Want you so much.” He tugged Keith’s zipper down, rubbing the wet spot already staining the front of the red boxers beneath his jeans. A moan spilled out when he undid the little button and freed his cock from the confines of fabric, Lance feeling himself clench around nothing in anticipation. “Oh my god,” he whimpered, fingers curling around the thick base and stroking. “Fuck, Keith.”

“Y-yes, _Lance_.” Lance's fingers were so long, wrapped around him perfectly, applying just the right amount of pressure. He twisted his wrist on each upstroke, thumbing his slit. “Oh god.” He wasn't going to make it. He was going to come embarrassingly fast, but it would be at Lance's hand, and he would be shouting Lance's name, so it didn't really matter. “Come on, Lance,” he grunted, finally slipping the panties down to get to skin, his other hand cupping Lance's balls and squeezing gently. “Want to come, want you to come with me. _Fuck_.”

“Yes, yes, yeah- _Keith_!” Lance cried out, back arching as he came. It was fast, but blindingly hard after months of not having anyone and years of craving this one. His hips bucked out of rhythm, the fingers still caught in Keith’s hair pulling hard in reflex.

 _Fuck_ , Lance was gorgeous like this. Keith watched his release spurt out, the force of it sending streams of come up to splatter onto his chest. Some of it got onto the dress, soaking into the dark fabric, turning it an even darker shade of blue. The thought of Lance having to walk around the rest of the night like that, with the evidence of what they'd just done so glaringly obvious on his clothing, pushed Keith right over the edge. “ _Lance_!” he shouted, eyes slipping closed and lips parting on more noises, hips bucking wildly as he spilled his release over Lance's hand.

Lance stroked his hair through it, dropping his mouth to Keith’s neck when he settled, shivering in the aftermath. “You’re so pretty, Keith. You look so good when you come.” He sucked on the mark he'd made, and then leaned back enough to lift his hand to his own lips. He sucked and licked his hand clean, moans softly spilling out around the digits until his hand was clean enough to grab Keith’s wrist and lap his hand clean as well.

“Oh my god.” He reached up with that hand, tangling it in Lance's hair to pull him down enough to kiss him, thrusting his tongue between his lips and lapping at their mixed tastes in his mouth. He moaned into it, hips bucking off the chair again briefly. “You don't look so bad yourself,” he teased when he pulled back, a trail of spit stretching between them until it broke and landed on both of their clothes. His other hand dropped down to massage the top of Lance's thigh, still trembling slightly at the force of his orgasm. “Holy shit, Lance. Gorgeous, you're so incredibly gorgeous. And all mine.”

“All yours.” Wanting nothing more than to press close and never move again, Lance let the dress fall over their laps. He didn't want to stop touching his hair, so used his free hand to gently trace the angles of his face the way he'd once done with his gaze in the moments where he thought Keith wasn't looking. “At the risk of inflating your ego, you definitely managed to blow my mind. I haven't come that fast with someone since I was a mcfreaking teenager. Cripes, Keith.”

Smirking, he tilted Lance’s head to the side and sealed his lips over the spot between his shoulder and neck, sucking a mark into his skin. “Hmm, I can't wait to show you what I can do to you in an hour, then.”

Lance shivered, hand falling to curl into Keith's shirt above his heart. It was tempting to ask what he could do in a lifetime, but it was easier to talk about that over text. Which probably made him a little bit of a coward, though he preferred to think of himself as wisely cautious. “Bite me,” he requested instead. “I want a mark that'll last.”

“Oh my- okay, jesus, Lance.” Keith used the hand still in Lance's hair to pull him down closer, mouth going back to the same spot. He laved his tongue over it for a second, licking up sweat and his own spit, before sinking his teeth into Lance's flesh. He kept the pressure light at first, just holding him there, and then bit down harder until he just barely broke skin and could taste blood mixing in with the other fluids, licking it away gently with his tongue.

Lance's hips jerked, outcry filling the room at the sharp sting. Encouraging whimpers spilling out, Lance squirmed in Keith's lap in an effort to get closer and tugged at his shirt. He was as weak for sharp teeth as he was soft silk. “I- Yeah. Good.”

Keith took another minute to lick at the wound until the blood stopped, leaving a perfect impression of his mouth in Lance's skin. The sight made his heart flutter, being able to lay such a public claim to Lance. “Please tell me you're not putting that jacket back on.” His mouth started on a path back up Lance's neck to his lips, pressing a short kiss to them. “I want everyone to see it and to know that I was the one who gave it to you.”

“Okay. Yeah, I want-” Lance shuddered against him, hand sliding down to dive beneath his shirt to find warm skin beneath. “I'm yours. I don't care who knows it.”

“Good.”

They spent a few more minutes just kissing, Keith's hands finding their way back to Lance's hips under the dress, kneading his fingers into bare skin, while Lance's stayed stubbornly in his hair and on his abdomen. Eventually Keith pulled away, glancing at the clock on the wall. “We only have a couple more minutes left ‘til the next show is set to start.”

Lance sighed. “I know. That's the problem with quickies. The only problem, maybe, but still a problem.” He stretched, arms lifting and back arching just because he liked having Keith’s eyes following the lines of his body, and finally climbed off of his lap. “You've got jizz on your shirt.”

He shrugged, smiling as he tucked himself back into his jeans and zipped up. “You've got it on your dress.”

“Which means I get to hear about it for the rest of the night from five drag queens who really like details.” Lance grinned, walking around the desk to pick up his discarded jacket. Wet panties were uncomfortable, and he was an asshole so he just shoved them into the pocket while Keith was distracted. “It's a good thing I like to brag.”

Keith laughed as he stood up, stretching the same as Lance, shirt rising up to show off a bit of skin that he knew Lance was staring at. His smile turned smug, dragging a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it at least a little. “Well, while you're bragging, I have to go make sure none of this footage makes it onto the official tapes.” He rounded the desk and kissed Lance's cheek, keeping his mouth near his ear to whisper, “But I'm keeping a copy for myself.”

“I'd be really disappointed if you didn't, pretty boy.” Lance swung the jacket onto Keith's shoulders, giving him a firm kiss. “Come on. You keep making me late.”

“It's just as much your fault as it is mine,” he laughed. And even though it was warm in the club, he slipped his arms into the sleeves, rolling them up to his elbows. If Lance was going to wear his bite mark proudly on his neck, Keith would do the same with the jacket. He grabbed Lance's hand again and led him from the office, sharing another kiss in the hallway before going their separate ways.

\----

Anticipation was somehow worse during the second show, Lance's skin positively on fire. It probably didn't help that he kept pressing his thumb against the bitemark just to remind himself that it was there. And he absolutely did brag about the gorgeous man who'd given it to him and the stains on his dress. It was absolutely the most debauched he'd ever felt in his life as even he tended to know better than to mess around between shows. Hell, he and Keith were both on the clock and would absolutely be fired by anyone else in a heartbeat, no matter how good Lance was at his job or how qualified Keith was for his.

The perk and detriment to working with your closest friends, he guessed, lips curving when he caught a glimpse of Keith speaking to one of the bouncers. Coran was nowhere to be seen. Biting his lip, unable to help himself, he pulled out his phone.

Keith pulled his phone out when he felt it buzz, reading the text and then looking around until his eyes landed on Lance across the club. He smirked and typed back to him, catching Lance's eyes again with a challenge in his own.

The emoji made him laugh even though the imagery it brought to mind made him want to squirm. Filthy fucker.

And two could play at it.

_What…?_ Keith stuck the hand not holding his phone in one pocket, but after coming up with nothing, switched hands and- _Oh._ Suddenly no hands were holding his phone as it clattered to the floor, and god he hoped the screen hadn't cracked. Because that was silk brushing against his fingertips. Damp, _filthy_ silk. _Fuck_.

He was quick to snatch his phone back up, relieved to see that the screen was still intact, and shot off a couple messages back to him.

He hadn't been expecting to actually see Keith's reaction, and it was far better than he'd hoped. Lance wanted nothing more than to let him drag him to his office, his texts only fueling the fire under his skin. Maybe he'd leave the queens right after the last song and let them untuck and such by themselves. He knew they'd use the hour break to get food and Lance usually joined them, but the only thing he wanted to have his mouth on was Keith's skin.

He wondered how Keith would react to a little prep work, pretty sure that he had a blue plug somewhere in his desk. He'd have to look so he could enjoy the hell out of Keith's reaction. Smirk nothing but smug, he sent off a last text before returning to the dressing room.

Keith didn't bother responding, just tucked his phone away and watched Lance as he practically sashayed from the room, eyes glued to his ass now that he knew Lance was completely bare under the dress. It shouldn't have been possible for him to get this hard this many times in just a few short hours, but then again this was _Lance_ , the first guy he'd ever gotten hard for, and _fuck_ , probably the last.

The bouncer he'd been talking to had wandered off at some point. Keith sought him out to make sure that, unlike himself, he was actually doing his job, and saw him back at his post by the bar. Good. One less thing he'd have to worry about. A quick glance around the room confirmed that everyone else was where they were supposed to be, so Keith walked back to his office to monitor the cameras for a bit before Coran could catch up to him again.

After the show was over and they had just under an hour for a break, Keith once again made his way back to Lance's office. The door was already shut and he smirked when he found it locked after he tried the handle. A fresh wave of heat washed over him as he wondered what it was Lance was doing that he needed the door locked. With that heat curling low in his abdomen, he lifted his fist and rapped on the door.

Lance gave himself another moment, fingers curled around the edge of his desk to keep himself from touching anything besides the blue plug he'd worked in so snugly. And, of course, in full view of the camera for Keith to enjoy after. Humming, hoping beyond anything that it was actually Keith and not some sort of emergency, he climbed off the hastily cleared desk and smoothed his skirt. His dick was a little more obvious with his panties in Keith’s pocket, and the fabric brushing over the sensitive skin only heightened it.

He bit back a whimper when he stepped towards the door, feeling the plug shift deliciously inside of himself, and swung the door open. Thank god. “What took you so long, pretty boy?”

“Coran. What else?” He stepped inside, grabbing Lance's waist to push him further in so he could shut and lock the door again. His lips found Lance's, hands reaching up to cup his cheeks as he kissed him deeply.

Lance sank into it, welcoming Keith’s busy tongue. God, could the man kiss. He arched against him, fingers stealing beneath the jacket to grip his shirt.

“To be fair,” he managed when their lips parted, “Coran’s awesome. He just shouldn’t be doing certain things full time.” Lance slid his hands down to Keith’s pants, undoing them quickly now that he knew what prize lay beneath, and let Keith back him into the desk. “And, before this really gets crazy, I'm gonna warn you now that I won’t be able to do this tomorrow. You're lucky we've got regulars tonight.”

“Understood.” Keith dropped his lips to the bite mark again, kissing it to feel Lance shiver under him, before wrapping fingers around his hips and lifting him so he was sat on the edge of the desk.

Lance wound his legs around Keith's waist to keep him close, the dress hiking high on his thighs. A moan spilled out when the plug shifted, Lance's hips shifting restlessly against the unyielding surface. “You gonna make good on those texts, pretty boy?”

“You bet.” He kissed him again before he made Lance let go of him, wheeling the chair over so he could sit down, and pulled Lance closer to the edge, having him prop his feet on the arms of the chair. He flipped up the dress again, rubbing his hands along Lance's thighs as he admired him without the silk of the panties covering him. “Jesus, Lance, look at you.” Lance's cock was already at full hardness, twitching and steadily leaking pre. Keith pushed closer, taking it in hand, and slowly lowered his lips, pressing a sucking kiss to the tip. “So gorgeous and you taste so good.”

Lance arched his back on a moan, a hand sliding into Keith's hair. The other curled into his dress, keeping the skirt up so it wouldn't impede Keith's mouth or his own ability to see. It was hard not to lift up, to show off more in search of more praise, but he let his own spill out instead. Keith had wanted to hear how good he looked and, fuck, he didn't disappoint. “You look so good, Keith. Right where I want you, pretty boy. I wanna know how good your mouth can make me feel.”

Keith hummed, letting the vibrations travel through Lance before parting his lips and taking the head between them. He tongued at the slit, lapping up the pre, while his hands spread Lance's legs wider. He pulled off to press kisses all along the length of his shaft, murmuring, “You can pull my hair. Want you to.” And then without further warning, Keith opened his mouth and swallowed him down until Lance's cockhead hit the back of his throat.

“Keith! Oh, fuck, Keith,” he groaned. He had to lean back, a hand falling back to the desk to keep him propped up. The dress barely stayed up, but he couldn't focus on it when Keith's wet, hot, _good_ mouth was around him. “Like that. Just-!” He whimpered, clenching tight around the toy, and would've pulled Keith's hair even without permission.

Keith moaned around him, the taste so much more potent and _better_ on the back of his tongue. God, Keith wanted to spend hours just worshipping Lance's cock, bring him to the edge just to pull off and keep him from coming before doing it again and again. Maybe he'd buy a cock ring for him so he wouldn't _have_ to pull off… He moaned again at the thought, trailing one hand down to Lance's balls, fondling them for a moment and then dipping lower to his hole, rubbing at the rim and- _Holy shit_.

He had to pull back in surprise, Lance's dick slipping out and slapping obscenely against his stomach. “ _Lance_.” Keith's fingers pressed harder against the plug, reaffirming that it _was_ _actually there_ and he wasn't just imagining things. “Lance, _fuck_.”

Lance writhed against the desk, pushing against Keith's fingers. “God, you have the best reactions to things. Oh my god.” Needy, Lance tugged at his hair to get the attention back where he wanted it. “You can watch the little show I put on for you later. Just touch me now. I'll let you do anything, just touch me.”

“Y-yeah, okay.” Oh, he couldn't wait to get back to his office. For now, though, he took Lance back into his mouth, relaxing his throat until his nose pressed into Lance's smooth skin, and sucked as hard as he could. He drew the plug out of Lance's body, wanting his own fingers to be the only source of pleasure there, and slowly slipped two inside, blessing the presence of the lube Lance had used to prep himself. The plug was set off to the side, Keith wondering if Lance wouldn’t be averse to putting it back in afterwards.

Lance tried to keep his hips still, but the wet heat around him and the fingers keeping him stretched had them rocking in helpless little moves. The fingers still in Keith's beautiful, awful mullet alternated between scritching gently over his scalp and tugging ruthlessly. “Wanna come, Keith. You're so good, fucking amazing. I want-” He wanted Keith inside him. He wanted Keith to fill him and then plug him up after so he'd have to feel it the rest of the night. His abdomen tightened, ass clenching around Keith's fingers as he moaned. It was a very vivid, fierce want. “Fuck, Keith, fuck-!”

Yes, yes, _yes_. Keith wanted him to come, wanted to swallow everything Lance could give him, so long as he kept moving his hips like that and pulling Keith's hair. He bobbed his head with him, letting Lance thrust down his throat and working a third finger inside to press against his prostate as a silent demand. _Come, damn it_.

Lance came on a shout, clenching tight around Keith's fingers and spilling down his throat. “Keith! Fuck- fuck me, please, Keith-!” He needed it, needed anything and everything Keith would give him. “Please, please,” he panted, whimpering at the way Keith's throat worked him through release.

Keith pulled away when Lance was spent, slowly slipping his fingers from his hole. “Fuck, Lance, I- Yeah, wanna fuck you.” And god, his voice was _wrecked_. “But not yet. I want the first time I come inside you to be in my bed.” He lowered Lance's legs to drape over the side of the desk and stood from the chair, shoving his jeans and boxers halfway down his thighs. “But… if you wanna bend over the desk and hold yourself open, I'd be more than happy to come on you.” And use the plug to push some inside so that Lance could have a memento to take with him the rest of the night.

Unable to resist, Lance reached out to cup and stroke the underside of Keith’s length just to feel the weight of it. As the high of release faded, he found the idea of actually being taken a little intimidating and maybe a little bit manipulative. Sex wouldn’t make him stay, and it was stupid and desperate to think that it would, even for a minute. He was so in over his head here, not knowing what he should do with everything he felt for Keith.

Lance smiled, sliding his hand back into Keith’s hair when he straightened from the desk, and sank into a kiss. He lapped at Keith’s tongue, tasting himself. “Yeah, that's- Yeah.”

“Are you sure, Lance? I don’t- I told you before that I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“I know.” Lance’s smile warmed. One thing he knew what to do with all this emotion was provide his brand of reassurance. His hands toyed with the hem of Keith’s shirt. “But it's absolutely your turn to show some skin, mullet.”

Keith returned the smile, checking the clock on the wall for the time; they still had about twenty minutes before they had to make a reappearance. Perfect. He drew back to tug his shirt over his head, throwing it onto the chair behind him before crowding back into Lance’s space. “This good enough for you?” he asked, smirking.

“Oh.” Lance laughed a little breathlessly, fingers sweeping down. It was one thing to pet his abs beneath his shirt. It was another to be able to pet _and_ see them. “You're so fucking gorgeous, holy shit. Come on, Keith.” He pulled him back, pressing against the desk. “I want you to come all over me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Turn around and bend over the desk.” He helped Lance get into the position, pressing a kiss to the small of his back when he was settled. “M’not gonna last long, Lance.” He could already feel his third orgasm pooling low in his abdomen as he trailed his hands down to Lance’s ass, holding his cheeks open to blow a breath lightly over his hole. “Can you hold yourself open like this?”

Lance reached back to replace Keith’s hands, spreading his knees a little wider. “Yeah. If you leave your mouth there, I'm gonna end up hard all over again.” He let his hips sway. “Come on, Keith.”

“Okay, fuck, Lance. You're beautiful.” Keith straightened and leaned away, taking his dick in hand and starting to stroke himself. The speed he set up was fast, placing a hand on Lance's back just above the curve of his ass to use as leverage as he bucked into his fist. He was leaking pre, and was close enough to Lance that it smeared on his skin with every thrust he made. And god, just the sight of Lance bent over his desk, hands holding his cheeks apart to expose his quivering hole, the hole that Keith would hopefully one day soon be able to be inside… It was enough to have Keith groaning his release, not able to stop himself from just barely nudging his cockhead against Lance’s entrance as he came, splattering come all over his ass.

Lance rested his cheek against the table, biting his lip as he watched Keith move, as he watched him let go. He moaned at the feel of hot release, pushing back as his rim was nudged, his little whine all instinct. “Keith. Oh my god, Keith. You're so beautiful.”

He dropped his forehead to Lance's shoulder blade, humming into a kiss he pressed into the fabric of his dress. His fingers trailed through the mess of come, dipping into Lance's hole to push it inside. “I want- Will you keep the plug in? Wanna coat it with my come so you feel it all night, feel me.”

Oh, yeah, he was probably going to get hard again, dick twitching at the thought. “F-fuck yes.”

Groaning again, Keith grabbed it off the desk, standing up with his hand still holding Lance down. He dragged it over his cheeks, using his fingers too to slather it with come, and carefully worked it back into Lance's hole. “Lance… Oh god, you- You're taking it so well, holy shit.”

Lance whimpered, cheek rubbing against the desk. “Keith,” he groaned. “Fuck, that- I’m gonna be late again, fuck it. Wanna-” He wished it was Keith. Sure, he was grateful to him to reeling him back in and the idea of his first time with Keith being in an actual bed was great, but he was a bottom at heart and having his ass played with was a heavenly torture.

“Lance,” Keith breathed, though it was more of a warning. “Lance, I want it, okay, I want you.” He massaged his hand up and down Lance's back, still wiggling the plug even though it was all the way in. Knowing that it was his come that slicked the way for it was just as arousing as watching Lance writhe on the desk under his ministrations. “But we have time, alright? I'm not going anywhere.”

“I know, I know. I just need to-” Lance had to stop holding himself open, hands falling to grasp the edge of the desk. “If you keep _moving_ it, I'm gonna ruin my desk.”

Keith huffed out a relieved laugh, letting go of it and removing his hand from Lance's back. “Okay, well, I don't want you to do that, so…” He helped Lance turn back around, the dress falling down to cover him again. His thumbs rubbed small circles into his hips as he tipped his head up to kiss him. “Mm, still gorgeous.”

“Pssh. I'm always gorgeous.” Lance smirked, face still flushed and arousal prickling way too close to the surface, and reached up to playfully tug a tuft of hair. “But you're not so bad yourself.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He laughed again, reaching down to pull his pants back up before grabbing his shirt off the chair and slipping it on as well. His eyes swept over Lance, admiring the mark on his collarbone, the way one cheek was red where it was pressed against the desk, and he knew that there was still a little bit of come drying on Lance's ass, probably getting soaked up in the dress. “God,” he breathed, taking Lance's hand in his and kissing his red cheek. “You'd think we were teenagers with the way we can’t keep our hands off each other. Christ, Lance.”

Lance's gaze averted, lips curved. He never would’ve pegged Keith as sweet. “Yeah, well, you can call it making up for lost time or we're just really that horny after a dry spell.” He shrugged, giving Keith’s hand a squeeze as he rose from the desk. When he stretched to soothe the kinks in his back, the toy shifted and he bit back a groan. He needed to find his backup pair of panties or he'd just end up in a bathroom stall or right back in his office mid-show. “You've got a lot of footage to cut out, though.”

“ _Ha_ , yeah, I've gotta go do that before Coran can get back there. I don't think he'd look back at them, but I don't want to take that chance.” Plus, he needed to make a couple of tapes for him and Lance to take home.

“No, trust me, he rewinds. I got to witness a very awkward little chat between Coran, Shiro, and Allura about the appropriate places to show affection. Apparently, behind the bar isn't among them.” Lance grinned, giving Keith a friendly, amused kiss. “And this was awkward for them, not me because I was laughing too hard. So you go handle that. I need to locate clean panties and actually work.”

“Ah, shit, okay. Yeah, I'll go deal with it.” He smiled, squeezing Lance's hand. “I'll meet up with you again when we're done cleaning up tonight. I'm not letting you leave without a goodnight kiss.”

“I'd hope not, geez.” Lance let him go, shoving his shoulder with a laugh. “I'll see you and your gorgeous face later. Go away.”

Keith echoed his laughter, and with a wink shot Lance's way from the door, he finally left the room to go back to his own office.

Lance smiled, very pleased with himself and his lover as he located a spare pair of panties in one of the desk drawers. And maybe he needed a better filing system because it was right next to some tax-related documents that he’d been meaning to give to Coran. Whoops.

He wiggled into the fabric, settling the familiar silk at his waist, and blew a kiss to the camera when he noticed its slight movement. As tempting as it was to do more for him, Lance wanted to actually make it to one show on time, so he slipped out of his office and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tentative schedule:  
>  ~~Ch. 1 - 11/12~~  
>  ~~Ch. 2 - 11/18~~  
>  ~~Ch. 3 - 11/25*~~  
>  ~~Ch. 4 - 12/2~~  
>  ~~Ch. 5 - 12/9~~  
>  ~~Ch. 6 - 12/16~~  
>  ~~Ch. 7 - 12/16~~
> 
> *Amy will be on vacation for Thanksgiving; this date is subject to change.


	5. Chapter 5

There was no question that Lance had slacked off majorly the day before. With such a big presence due that afternoon, he should’ve known better than to spend the previous day just fucking his boyfriend. It had been incredible fucking without a doubt, and maybe he’d enjoyed watching the playback when he’d finally gotten home the night before, but he really should’ve known better. After the last show had ended and cleanup had been accomplished, it was well after one when they’d gotten to the boxes of security equipment. Of course he’d helped unbox and inspect everything, so it had been nearly three when he’d stumbled into his apartment and after four when he’d finally gone to sleep because who was he to resist reliving the amazing fucking his boyfriend had so nicely made a copy of?

It had almost made up for having to back out when Keith had asked him to go home with him. Almost. But then he would’ve gotten zero hours of sleep instead of the four he actually managed. With Madame Chartreuse set to arrive by five that afternoon to watch setup, he’d needed every second of those four hours. His was the first car in the parking lot that morning, the most caffeinated of iced coffees in hand as he unlocked the front door and sped to the security office first.

A flower was set on Keith’s desk, a red tulip in a small vase because, well, he was a sap. He also knew that he wouldn’t have quite as much time to spend with Keith that day, so he’d wanted to give him a “thinking-of-you” thing, and what was better than flowers?

He then wasted no time invading his desk privacy by scouting out the plans Keith had drawn up for placement of the new equipment and spent the next hour hauling boxes to the dining/showroom for easy access once everyone started shuffling in, and thanked every god he’d ever heard of when Shiro strolled in carrying an extra coffee for him.

“Shiro, you’re a blessing from fantasy heaven. How’d you know I’d even be here?”

“I know you too well.”

“That’s fair. Do you need help setting up the bar?”

He smiled. “I’m fine. Did you drag all this equipment out here by yourself?”

“Yeah.” Lance took a swallow of his coffee. If Shiro hadn’t had the unfortunate tendency to be straight, he could’ve kissed him. It had caramel swirl. God bless. “But if you don’t need help, I’m going to my office.”

He ended up in Coran’s, dumping the tax papers he’d found in his desk the day before onto his desk and jotting down a few memos for him in regards to suppliers. Lance may have shuffled Coran out of most of the parts of the club, but that didn’t mean the guy wasn’t a vital member. It was just better for everyone, including Coran himself, that he stay in his niche. His niche was the business end, right by Allura’s side. The man could probably negotiate with the devil and come out on top, and the more he concentrated his efforts there, the better off they’d be.

He whirled out of Coran’s office and into Pidge’s to relay a few alterations to Sunday’s shows, namely Kitty Gallo’s performance. He knew the songs and he knew the lighting he wanted, so jotted those down for her and was off to the next office. He dropped a memo onto Allura’s desk that kept her updated on their upcoming schedules so she could contact everyone as she liked to do. It was a personal touch that Lance was definitely fond of, and she was absolutely going to be the first person the madame met with when she arrived. Or he, depending on the outfit worn. He tapped out a quick memo to himself on his phone to remind himself to get preferred pronouns. Most of the queens didn’t mind going by their female pronouns and stage name out of drag, but there were one or two who preferred to keep things separate. He knew better than anyone to respect that.

When he finally headed to his own office, he very nearly collided with Keith since his nose was in his phone. He held two coffees, offering the iced one, and Lance absolutely did kiss him. “Oh my god. If all of you bring me coffee, I might live through the rest of the weekend.”

“Yeah, well, I figured if you'd done the same thing that I did last night when you got home, you couldn't have gotten much more than four or five hours of sleep, either.” The corners of Keith's lips quirked up lazily, taking a sip of his own black, but very sugary, coffee. “Plus, I texted Shiro to ask what you’d want for breakfast, and all I got back in response was the coffee emoji, like, thirty times. But I did also bring donuts. So if you _do_ happen to be hungry, they're at the bar.”

“I might have to make my way up there before hitting my office then. Donuts won’t last long once Hunk gets here.” Lance leaned down to kiss him again. “Do you need any help with equipment setup before Pidge gets here?”

“If you're offering, then definitely.” He slipped his hand in Lance's free one, smiling sleepily. “But first, food.”

“Okay.” Lance gave his hand a squeeze, leading him down the hall. “You're really, seriously cute when you're tired, by the way.”

Keith chuckled through a yawn. “Well, I'm glad you think so, because I feel like a zombie right now.”

“Drink your coffee, pretty boy. It'll solve all your problems.” Lance flipped open the box once they reached the bar, grabbing a sprinkle-covered donut. “Shiro, thanks for encouraging Keith to feed my caffeine addiction.”

He chuckled, leaning against the bar with his own donut safe on a napkin. He was quick to push one at Lance. “No problem. You both look like you need it.”

“Absolutely.” Keith took another long swig of his coffee, relishing in the sweetness of it even as it burned down his throat, and grabbed a Bavarian cream-filled donut from the box. “I might need more in a little bit.” He bit into the donut and groaned when some of the filling got squeezed out the other side, getting on his hand; he sighed, licking it off. “I'm definitely gonna need more.”

Lance hummed, pushing his straw into his mouth to keep himself from reaching out to let his tongue follow Keith’s. He knew very well how that tongue could work, feeling the first warm flickers of arousal in his gut. But they had zero time. He had so much to do, and so did Keith.

But maybe if he shuffled some things...

God, he really was acting like a mcfreaking teenager.

Keith's cheeks grew pink at hearing Lance's small noise. Realizing what he was doing and how it looked, he dropped his hand to the counter to grab a napkin and wipe the rest of the cream off. “So, uh, I just have to run back to my office and drag the equipment out so we can start setting up.”

Lance tipped his head to the side, a little disappointed that he'd used the napkin. “Seriously?”

“He dropped the donuts and left,” Shiro supplied, amused by them both and relieved to see that their initial tension seemed to be gone. “He didn’t exactly look around.”

“Huh?” _Look around_. He turned away from the bar and let his gaze sweep over the room, noticing the boxes already placed where they needed to be. “Lance, did you do all this?” Smiling, Keith looked back at him. “You didn't have to do that.”

“Sure I did. It's part of my job.”

“It's really not,” Shiro laughed.

Lance just waved a hand. “I had the time.”

“Well, thanks.” He resisted the urge to kiss him in front of Shiro, still not sure what exactly they were labeled as, or if Lance even wanted a label. “We should probably get started, then. We've got a long day ahead of us, boys.”

Lance sighed. “We seriously, really do.” He didn’t bother resisting, uncomfortable with secrets when it came to his friends, so leaned forward to steal a quick kiss. “Come on, mullet. I left your plans on the ladder. I can spare an hour, and Pidge should be here by then.”

“Yeah, alright.” Well, if Lance was okay with kissing in front of their friends, then so was Keith. He smiled brightly and took his hand again. “Thanks for the company this morning, Shiro.” Even if there weren't many words exchanged with him.

“Anytime.”

“Unless you're locking lips with Allura.”

“ _Lance_.”

Some of the sternness in his tone was lost in his blush, so Lance only laughed and tugged Keith to the ladder so they could begin setting up and replacing the older equipment.

When Pidge arrived half an hour later, Lance caught Keith for a firm kiss. “I need to get some stuff done. If you need me, come find me.”

“Okay. If we have time, we should grab a quick lunch later.”

“What, you can't live on one donut and some coffee?” Lance grinned, giving Keith’s mullet a fond tug. “When you get all this setup and tested, let me know.” He snagged the coffee Pidge held out to him, smile brightening at her arched brow, and sped off to his office.

Pidge turned the arched brow on Keith. “So that was a fast turnaround.”

“Uh, yeah.” Really fast, but Keith wasn't complaining. Far from it. He smiled at her from his perch on the ladder. “I just did what you told me to do.”

“Thank god, you really have grown up. I'm always right, so you should always listen to me.” She lifted another cup of coffee and set it on a table. “That's for you, by the way. Lance texted me that you needed another caffeine boost.”

“You're the best. And Lance is the best boyfriend ever for texting you.” He jumped down to grab the cup and take a sip. “And it's perfect. Thanks, Pidge.”

“No problem.” She gestured at the cameras and wires, eyes gleaming in the appreciation only a techie could feel. “Let's get to this so you have time to pry Lance away.”

“Sure thing.”

They worked until just after two o’clock, but they were able to get everything up and operational, so Keith wasn't too upset that he'd spent the past hour working with his hunger. Before seeking Lance out to steal him away for lunch, he ran some of the old equipment back to his office, stopping short on his way back out when he noticed the flower on his desk. He picked the vase up, lifting it so he could smell the sweet scent, wondering why Lance chose a tulip over all the other flowers, but appreciating the gesture all the same.

He set it back down next to his monitor, smiling to himself when he saw Lance on-screen, still in his office. Keith would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed that Lance was back in jeans and a T-shirt today, but he also had Lance's word that he would definitely get back into a dress for him again sometime soon. With that thought in mind, he left his office to make his way to Lance's, this time walking inside without knocking.

Lance didn’t look up from his email, but stopped singing along with Beyonce long enough to ask, “Who needs me for what?”

“Me, for lunch,” Keith replied, laughing. “Get your ass up.”

Lance glanced up, lips curved. “I was starting to wonder if I was going to have to beg a sandwich off Hunk. Two seconds so I can finish this. I need Coran to look into a booking situation for Saturday.” His fingers flew over the keyboard. “How's the equipment look?”

“It looks great, much better than what we had up.” He dropped into the chair across from him and picked up a pen from the desk to play with it idly while he waited. “I just have to update the software when we get back. It won't take too long, and I would have done it now, but I’m starving and wanted to spend some time with you again before we got busy.”

“That's a pretty good reason to put off the updates.” Lance hit send and put his computer to sleep. “I bragged to the madame about our amazing new security lead, so don’t let me down, pretty boy.” He walked around his desk as he spoke, reaching out and leaning down to capture Keith's lips.

He returned the kiss easily, parting his lips on a sigh and slipping his tongue into Lance's mouth. He loved kissing Lance, almost as much as he loved the man himself, and he couldn't wait to tell him, hoping his feelings would be returned. For now, he was content to pull away and just hold him in his arms. “Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint the best boyfriend ever, now would I?”

“I am pretty great, aren't I?” Lance straddled his lap, wanting to steal a minute just to press close and kiss him again. He was genuinely disappointed that he wouldn't be able to drag Keith into his office between shows that night. Not just because the sex was fantastic - because, yeah, it was definitely that - but because he was greedy for all the interaction he could get. He wanted to learn all the things that made him work and compare them to what he remembered. For the most part, he seemed the same. Maybe a little more open, a little more comfortable in his own skin, but Lance considered himself to be the same.

He definitely wasn't the same twenty-year-old who'd hidden in a closet for twenty minutes because one of Hunk's friends had popped into their dorm just because he hadn't wanted to be judged for the dress he'd been wearing. He still wouldn't call the split a good thing, but it was interesting to see how they'd ended up with the gap. And it would be much, much better to see how much farther they could grow together. “So where are you taking me for lunch, mullet?”

“I hadn't thought about it,” he admitted, resting his hands on Lance's hips. “Something quick. I'll let you pick this time.”

“Still genuinely feeling sandwiches. There's a deli, like, two blocks away that's always quick if you're interested.” Lance shrugged, tracing patterns over his chest. “Quick is good since it gives more time to come back here and spend more time alone.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” His hands trailed up to just under Lance's shirt, fingers skirting along the waistband of his jeans. “I know we don't have time to do much of anything, but we can at least make-out for a bit.” Keith smirked, pinching his skin.

Lance climbed off his lap, swatting his hand. “I was thinking more along the lines of sucking your dick, but not if you're gonna be an ass.”

Laughing, Keith rose with him, grabbing Lance's hand before he could slap him again. “Okay, okay. I'll stop.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Lance's cheek. “Thanks for the flower, by the way. That was really sweet.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I pass a little flower shop on my way in, and maybe I stopped because I was thinking about you. I missed you, and I'm really glad you're back.” Back and so close to being the same for Lance to slide right back into love with him, but different enough to make the old puppy love fresh and exciting, bigger and more real than it had been.

Cheeks pink, Lance laced their fingers and pulled him out of the office. “So food.”

“Y-yeah, food.” Keith let Lance drag him out to the parking lot and propped him up on the back of Red again, kissing him soundly. “So which way do we go? Or did you wanna walk...?”

“Walk? Pssh. If I want to exercise, I'll dance or do yoga. It's just two blocks that way, though.” He gestured vaguely. “I'll tell you when to turn.”

Keith shook his head, smiling. “Alright, then. Let's go.” He jumped on and started the bike, pulling out of the parking lot and following Lance's directions. They made it to the deli in three minutes. “And you couldn't have walked?” Keith teased when he shut the engine off.

“Eh. Now that you know the way here, you can take a long way back.” Lance grinned, hopping off the back. “A very long, convoluted way.”

“Sure, Lance,” he agreed, sliding from the seat and taking Lance's hand. “Anything you want. But just remember we actually _do_ have to be back on time today.”

“Oh, I know, I know. I'm just saying.” Lance amused himself by letting their hands swing. “I actually have an alarm set. If I'm not there at least half an hour before the madame's set to arrive, I'll probably have an aneurysm. I've spent _months_ on this booking.”

“Heh, I know. You’ve been bragging about it all week.” Keith held the door open for Lance when they got to the entrance and then followed him in, hands still linked. “So I think we should get our food to go and take a long ride back.”

“I like the sound of that.”

They hung back while Keith looked at the menu displayed above the counter, Lance’s order already in mind. Despite his claims, he'd walked there more than once in search of a quick meal and the walk always helped clear his head. He wanted a bike ride with Keith more than he needed that, though.

Once orders were placed, they waited at a small high table. Lance studied their hands, joined on the tabletop. “Mm. I think I might change my nail color.”

“Tired of the blue already?” Keith asked, turning his wrist so he could see Lance’s nails better. “What color?”

“Oh, I'm never tired of blue unless it doesn't match my outfit, but they've been this _shade_ of blue for two days. That's crazy.” Lance shifted his hand, palm flat atop Keith’s, and let his fingers stroke his wrist. “Maybe I'll go with a red. I haven't done that in a while.”

“Yeah?” He shivered a little at the light contact, wrapping his own fingers around Lance's wrist as best he could. “Any certain shade in mind?”

“Mm. We'll see. Do you still have that dumb crop jacket?”

“It's not dumb! But yeah, I still have it. I haven't worn it since college.” He actually hadn't worn it since that night of the party. For a few days afterward he’d tried putting it back on, but it hadn't felt right without Lance there to make fun of him for it. But that was a detail that he'd keep to himself for now.

“Because it's dumb and you know it. You just won't admit it out loud.” Lance snickered. “But you should wear it Sunday.”

Keith rolled his eyes, grinning. “Alright, fine. I'll wear it Sunday. Just for you.”

Lance lifted Keith’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the palm. “Thanks, pretty boy.” He had plans in mind, and the old jacket was a perfect vehicle for them. He looked up when their names were called, sliding off the seat to grab their food. “Let’s go.”

They climbed back on the bike and took off, Keith making sure to take the longest route possible back to the club. He loved having Lance on Red again, pressing close to his back as they drove fast and free through the city. He couldn't wait until Monday when they'd take her out to the field again. It would truly be like old times.

Lance’s thoughts were an echo, still holding tight to Keith when he stopped in his usual parking spot. “Is it Monday yet?”

“I wish.” Keith pried one of Lance's arms from around him, lifting it to kiss his knuckles. “Come on. I'm even hungrier now and I still wanna spend as much time with you as I can before the madame gets here.”

“Yeah.” Lance pressed a kiss to the back of his neck before climbing off Red. “Okay. We've got... just under an hour. That's plenty of time.”

“Yep.” Keith followed him in, carrying the bag with their sandwiches as they walked back to Lance's office, closing and locking the door behind them. “Alright, food first and then I promise we'll do whatever you wanna do for the rest of the time.”

He laughed, clearing his desk enough for them to be able to share it. “Are you saying you don’t want your dick sucked?”

“I mean, if that's what you wanna do, I won't say no.” He smirked as he took a bite of his sandwich.

Lance unwrapped his, though was immediately distracted by his need for music. He flicked a playlist on low, then had to check his phone, and Keith’s “Lance. _Eat_ ,” finally returned his attention to the sandwich. “Okay, okay. Why is food necessary? It takes forever.”

Keith chuckled, making sure Lance took a bite before turning back to his own food. “Food is good, though. Most of it.”

“Some of it sometimes, depending who cooks it.” Lance stuck his tongue out. “And it actually needs to be cooked, Keith.”

“Childish…” Keith muttered, but then he laughed when Lance threw a tiny balled-up piece of bread that hit him in the forehead. “Wow, really?”

“Yeah, now who's childish?”

“Still you!”

Lance opened his mouth to argue, but he had been the one to throw bread. So he chucked another piece to solve the problem, grinning. “I'm still right.”

Keith's laughter died into a smile. “Sure,” he conceded, finishing off his sandwich.

“Have I mentioned that I really missed you? Because I really did.” Lance offered his hand across the desk, smile bright. “And the longer you're around, the more I remember why.”

“I missed you, too, Lance.” Keith took his hand, squeezing gently. “I missed you every day. I- Thank you for giving me the chance to prove it to you.”

“You’re definitely making the most of it, so it's not that hard to give you the chance. I'm never going to not wish you'd stayed, but... I'm not up for holding it over your head either. We didn’t _talk_. We made out and then basically split immediately because even drunk we didn’t know what we were doing. So we were both total dumbasses. I'm not- It wasn’t _all_ your fault. We both fucked up that first time.” And Lance didn’t tend to admit he was wrong easily. He entwined their fingers. “We both fucked up, we both suffered, and now... Now we're finally making it right.”

Keith blushed. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.” And it did feel right. Lance was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and while he was still mad at himself for ever walking away in the first place, he was eternally grateful to whatever higher being there was that made it possible for them to be together again. The _I love you_ was right on the tip of his tongue, would've been so easy to just say it right then, but he swallowed it back down. “So, uh, how much time do we have ‘til your alarm goes off?”

“Enough.” His sandwich was only half-eaten, but Lance all-around sucked when it came to food. He pushed back in his chair. “Come here, pretty boy. I really, really want my mouth on you.”

“Yeah?” Keith rose from the chair and rounded the desk, leaning down over Lance to kiss him. “Where at?”

“That's not a bad start.” Lance rose, cupping Keith’s hips to turn him. He couldn't resist lifting his shirt, Lance wetting his lips as more skin was exposed. “When we do get to bed, I'm going to spend so much time mapping out those abs with my tongue. What the hell do you _do_?”

He shrugged, shuddering under the attention. “I practice taekwondo, along with a normal workout routine. It’s not that impressive, Lance.”

“Because everyone just practices taekwondo.” And of course Keith would. He'd always been into it. Lance nudged him into the office chair, pulling his shirt off the rest of the way and tossing it to the desk. “Besides, the results are ridiculously impressive.” He leaned down to kiss him again, lips soon trailing down his neck in damp, warm kisses. “You make my mouth water, you're so incredibly beautiful, Keith.”

“Lance,” he moaned, tilting his head to the side and grabbing hold of Lance’s hips. “And you’re gorgeous, so damn gorgeous, Lance.” And god, his lips were sinful.

“Mm... You have seen more of me than I have of you, so I'll let you be right about that.” He let his tongue glide down his chest, pausing only briefly to flick over his nipples, and steadily sank down to his knees. They didn't have nearly enough time for him to worship every inch like he wanted, but they'd have more time later. Keith was staying this time. Lance was at least ninety-five percent sure of that. He pressed sucking kisses against his firm abdomen, fingers deftly undoing the button holding the dark denim shut. But his lips curved against Keith’s skin, gaze lifting. “So... what color?”

“Oh my god…” He lifted his hips impatiently. “Black?”

“Mm-mm.” Lance lapped at the lines of his abs. “Try again, pretty boy.”

“Red.”

“Do you really think I'd wear your favorite color and get you a flower on the same day? How big of a sap do you think I am, Keith?” He was right, though, so Lance drew down his zipper and reached in to massage his length through the cotton of his boxers.

“You _did_ get me a flower, so I'd say pretty sappy.” He moaned again, bucking his hips slightly into Lance's touch. “Fuck, please, Lance.”

Lance smiled, drawing his boxers down until his half-hard dick was bared for his appreciative gaze and eager tongue. “Oh my god, you're gonna feel so good inside me. I'll have to show you the benefits of yoga when we finally find a bed.” He cupped Keith’s length, kneading while his lips trailed wet kisses up the side until he could flick his tongue over the slit. “You taste so good, Keith.”

“ _Yes_ , Lance. God, you're incredible, come on.” He squirmed in the chair, trying to push his dick in between Lance's lips. “I can't wait to be inside you. You were so tight around my fingers, wanna feel you around my dick.”

Lance moaned at the praise, hips swaying. He cupped Keith’s, thumbs rubbing circles against his skin, but didn’t bother to hold tight enough to still his movements. “I'll make you feel so good, pretty boy.” Lance swirled his tongue around Keith’s cockhead, lips closing around it as he sank lower. Jaw relaxing, he bobbed in time with Keith’s shallow thrusts until he swallowed him to the hilt. He was thick, Lance’s lips stretched obscenely around him and tongue lapping busily.

“ _Lance_ , holy shit.” All ten fingers tangled into Lance's short hair, alternating between tugging lightly and massaging into his scalp. His hips started moving a bit faster, the chair beginning to squeak underneath him as Lance just took it all. He looked down, watching his dick slide smoothly in and out of that perfect mouth. “Fuck, Lance, you're so good. I love your mouth.” He took one hand from Lance's hair to reach out and wipe the spit off his chin, lifting it to lick it off his fingers.

Lance moaned around him, letting the sound vibrate over Keith’s cock. One hand gripped the arm of the chair to keep it from rolling back, eyelids falling to half-mast as Keith used his mouth, his throat, for his own pleasure. He sucked hard, tongue lapping at the tip every time Keith pulled back, and let his noises spill out, eager and muffled. His free hand found Keith's balls, squeezing gently, eager to add as many sensations as he could.

“Oh my god, Lance. I'm-” He was going to come embarrassingly fast again. How the hell did Lance manage to keep doing that to him? “I'm gonna come, oh god, _please_.” The hand Lance had on his balls squeezed slightly and he groaned, hips bucking up sharply.

Lance hummed again and again, swallowing him down and bobbing his head to not let him slide out, keeping him surrounded by wet heat. He wanted it, wanted him to come down his abused throat. His hand shifted, tugged just a little. _Come_.

“ _Fuck_!” Keith came hard on another wordless shout, shooting his release down the back of Lance's throat. His fingers tightened in his hair, wanting to keep him there while he spent himself.

Moaning, Lance drank him down, throat working around him through the shallow thrusts until the tight grip lessened and he could lift his head. His tongue still swept over every inch of his softening length to leave him clean, glistening with spit, until he released his dick with a wet sound. Panting, Lance had to unsnap his own jeans, rubbing himself through the thin silk and lace. “So fucking gorgeous, Keith,” he managed, voice rough and wrecked.

Keith watched him for a second, rubbing his hands over Lance's shoulders before digging in and pulling, encouraging him to get up. “Lance, oh my god, get up here. Sit in my lap again,” he demanded, dropping his grip to his waist to get him where he wanted him. “I want you to come on my chest, come on.”

Lance whined, straddling his waist. He pushed the panties down, length dragging wetly against Keith’s skin. “Fuck, Keith,” he groaned, fingers curling around himself to stroke quickly.

“Yeah,” Keith moaned, thumbs dipping down to rub circles in the space just above the base of Lance's cock. “Yeah, just like that. You're so good, babe, so beautiful. Let me see you come, hear you make more of those delicious noises.”

Lance dropped his brow to Keith’s hair, whimpering and moaning despite his coarse throat, wanting to earn the praise and give Keith what he wanted. His hips bucked, fucking into his own fist, rutting against Keith’s torso. “Keith-!”

Keith pressed his lips to Lance's collarbone through his shirt, right over where he knew his bite mark was left in his skin. “Fuck, Lance,” he mumbled against the fabric before pulling back. One hand trailed to cup Lance's balls, squeezing gently while his other thumb pressed into his shaft. “Come on, Lance. Come for me, babe, make me messy with it.”

He couldn’t have held back if he'd tried, Lance coming on an outcry of Keith’s name. His seed streaked out, coating his chest and dripping down to his abdomen. He shuddered against him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Keith,” he breathed as he came down from the high. “My Keith. Pretty boy.”

“Hmm, Lance.” He dragged two fingers through the mess on his stomach, lifting them to his lips to swirl his tongue around them. “Fuck, babe. I love the way you taste.”

Where had that petname come from? Lance squirmed in Keith's lap, stroking his sides. “You look so good like this. So very mine.”

Keith hummed, reaching up to run his fingers through Lance’s hair. “Yours, Lance, just like you're mine.” He bent him down so he could press another kiss to his lips. “If you keep moving like that, I’m gonna get hard again, and we don't have time for a round two.”

“No, and that really sucks.” Lance settled, but continued petting his sides. “So was ‘babe’ a spur of the moment thing, or is it sticking around?”

“I-” Really, it had slipped out the first time, but it felt so good to say it that he'd continued. And Lance didn't seem to mind so... “It’s staying.”

“Good.” Lance pressed a kiss to his neck before reaching back for his tissues to mop up the mess he'd left on Keith’s stomach.

When his alarm sounded, he sighed and switched it off, sliding off of Keith's lap. He tucked himself back into his panties, adjusting his jeans. “Okay. So. It's really hard to get back into a work mindset when you look like that, holy shit.”

Keith smirked and made a show of getting up and stretching, letting Lance drink his fill of him, before pulling his pants back up and grabbing his shirt off the desk to slip it on. “There, is that better?”

“Better for work, but definitely not better for me.” Sigh nothing but dramatic, Lance cupped his hips and pulled him close for another kiss, and then kept him close. “So you still have to run software updates, and that's pretty much it?”

“Well, now I have to make sure that _that_ footage is deleted, but yeah, that's about it.” Keith wrapped his arms around Lance's middle, hooking his chin over his shoulder for a firm hug. “Shouldn't take long.”

Smiling, Lance pressed a kiss to his temple. “Okay. Text me when you're finished. The madame wants to see our setup, so I'm gonna have to take 'em through everywhere and I'd rather show you off when everything's running. And definitely not when you've got us on your screen.”

“Heh, no, definitely not.” He squeezed tight before drawing back, kissing Lance's cheek as he went. “Alright, let me go do my job. I'll tell you when I'm done.”

“If I have to.” Grinning, Lance turned to wrap what remained of his sandwich. He'd have to steal a minute at some point later to finish it, but already knew he'd likely forget it existed. “See you later, pretty boy.”

Keith already had his fingers wrapped around the door handle as he threw back a quick “Bye, babe,” before slipping out into the hallway.

Lance grinned, enjoying the sound of the petname. He bestowed them easily, used them often, but wasn't normally designated anything sweeter than an annoyed utterance of his own name. So it was nice to have one that rolled so easily off Keith's tongue. It felt like another strong link to the chain that meant Keith was staying.

God, he wanted Keith to stay. He'd do what he could to ensure it happened, though it was a relief to feel as though he didn't need to do more than be himself. Which is probably what he should've done in college. If Keith had heard straight from him that he was pan and what that meant, he wouldn't have freaked out. If they hadn't gone their separate ways that night in a panic, they would've been able to talk the next day without a problem. If he'd used any one of the thousands of opportunities to tell Keith that he wanted a relationship, things wouldn't have broken apart the way they had.

But they were different now, able to communicate. Keith wasn't in that terrifying stage of discovery, and Lance was at a point in his life where he was comfortable with every facet of himself. Sexuality, fashion preferences, career. Maybe he hadn't yet divulged his entire job title to Keith, but not everything could happen in one day. He'd know Sunday. And once Keith accepted that part of him, he'd tell him that he loved him. Whether it was reciprocated or not, he had to share. Secrets and hiding had ruined them last time; it wouldn't get a chance this time.

He shut off his music, but not before checking his email to see if there was anything new. The ten new messages had him sighing, but he could handle them from his phone. He put his computer to sleep and pushed his sandwich into the mini fridge he had in the corner, the place where most of his forgotten food tended to die. Maybe Keith would remind him that it existed.

He pulled his phone out as he sped from his room, long legs eating up the floor as he headed for everyone's office to remind them of the queen's imminent arrival. Months of work hinged on this first impression going well, damn it, and their team was stellar. They deserved this.

\----

Keith made his way back to his office, smiling fondly at the tulip still sitting next to his computer, then sat down, cracking his knuckles. He really wanted to impress the madame, because that in turn would impress Lance, so set to work on updating the system and making sure certain footage didn't find its way onto the tapes.

When he was finished twenty minutes, and a few troubleshooting issues he'd had to smooth out, later, he pulled his phone out to shoot a text to Lance.

“Honey, who you texting?”

Lance looked up from his phone, slipping it back into his pocket. Out of drag, Madame Chartreuse was a foot shorter than Lance and all Southern comfort in an unsurprisingly attractive face and slender frame. In drag, she was a goddamn goddess.

But Charlie Riverton, aka Madame Chartreuse, hadn't been a finalist on Lance's favorite reality show for nothing. And maybe he was a little starstruck. Oh well. “My boyfriend. It's handy because he also doubles as our head of security.”

He laughed, a smoky sound that would've had Lance flirting with him in a heartbeat. It was weird not to even really feel the urge to. “Is he pretty?”

“Madame, please.” Lance placed a hand over his heart, lashes fluttering. “He's absolutely gorgeous. Come on. I'll take you back, and he can give you a better explanation of the changes than I can. The entire system is genius, and he worked with our special effects coordinator to make sure that the show wouldn't interfere with safety.”

“Work quickly around here, don't you?”

“We try.” Lance waved to Hunk before leading the queen out, pointing out cameras on the way to show off how they blended in with the decorations except for a few of the obvious cameras that were strategically placed to discourage ruder customers. “We've been keeping him busy, obviously.”

“Mm-mm-mm. It looks better than some of the places I've performed at, I'll admit that.”

Lance grinned, barely knocking on the door to Keith's office before pushing it open. He gestured when his boyfriend looked up. “Keith Kogane, our head of security. Keith, Charlie Riverton. The one and only Madame Chartreuse.”

“I don't know how you stand working in a broom closet.” He offered a hand and a wicked sort of smile. “How you doing, honey?”

“Eh, I manage.” Keith smiled politely back, taking his hand and shaking it briefly. “And I’m doing just fine. How about you?”

“Better and worse than I was before we walked in here, ooh.” He glanced at Lance. “Lucky bitch.”

“Oh, I know exactly how lucky I am.” Laughing, Lance went around the desk so he could stroke a fond hand through Keith's hair and then leaned down, arms draped over his shoulders so he could kiss his cheek. It wasn't subtle and it wasn't professional, but he knew the madame didn't expect and would've been disappointed by either. Besides, he'd take any excuse to fawn over his boyfriend. “So besides being as gorgeous as advertised, Keith here is very clever with surveillance. We were lucky to snatch him up after he left the last place he was at.” It was a little bit of a lie, but only a little so he didn't feel bad about it.

Keith blushed a bit from the attention, but managed to keep his composure for the most part. The madame definitely had a presence, and Keith was actually a little intimidated, though Lance practically hanging off of him was helping to keep his nerves in check. “Lance, please,” he teased, wrapping fingers around one of his wrists, and turned his attention back to the queen. “I completely redesigned the way security is run around here, so there shouldn't be any issues for upcoming shows.”

The madame listened closely while Keith gave a brief overview of their security systems, Lance chiming in to clarify here and there to compare how the alterations would improve the safety for performers during shows.

As they wound down, Lance straightened. They only had a few minutes before seating would start for the first show. But this had been the biggest concern, so he'd wanted it addressed and absolutely adored Keith even more for making it through. “Plus, my guy here's prowly. He's not just going to sit in here all night and not help the guys on the floor.”

“You just like to watch the show. Don't you, honey?”

He smirked. “It's definitely a perk of the job.”

“You're adorable.” Lance snorted, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I'll see you later. We're going to pop in on Pidge, and then I need to check in on tonight's talent.”

“I was going to ask you about that, actually. Heard you've got a kitty cat who knows how to stir up a crowd.”

Lance shrugged, toying with Keith’s hair because he couldn't resist it. “She tries. She's slated to emcee Sunday’s second show since Allura’s handling the first.”

“How hard would it be to see a piece tonight?”

Oh, shit. Lance hummed, mentally shuffling things about before nodding. He could probably pull it off under Keith's nose. “It's too late to alter the first show, but I can manage to pull something together for the second.”

“Fantastic. I hate letting an emcee direct me unless I know what she's got.”

“Gotcha.” Lance hadn't expected a fucking audition, so tipped Keith’s chair back to steal a kiss. “I'll see you very later. Do you have time to take Charlie to Pidge? She can handle things from there.”

“Sure thing, babe.” He stood up when Lance let go, but was quick to press a kiss to his cheek. “Go do whatever you need to do.”

Both petname and kiss had his cheeks coloring, smile embarrassed pleasure. “Thanks, pretty boy.” He had so much to do, though, so turned to the madame again, waving a hand as he weaved his way back out from behind Keith's desk. “Pidge is our special effects coordinator and technological genius. She can take you through the steps of Sunday's show, or what she has completed so far. Then I'll make sure you and your party get situated at your table.” He wasn't used to leaving queens to anyone but Coran or Allura, but he knew Pidge would stick to technical aspects and avoid pissing Madame Chartreuse off. They'd only had one instance early on where her mouth had gotten them in trouble, but even she wouldn't quibble with the madame unless it was something really just awful. The newest change was and continued to be Keith.

Lance paused at the doorway, but only smiled over his shoulder before vanishing down the hall. He could trust him. If he could trust him with his heart, he could trust him with his job.

He paused long enough to fling open Pidge's office door. “Madame's coming by. Keith's bringing her. I'll text you.”

“O- Hey!” she snapped when Lance immediately backed out.

“No time, Pidge! I'll text you!” He darted down the hall, skidding into the dressing room. “Coran! Great! I need you to get Allura.”

“Aren't you supposed to be with Madame Chartreuse?”

“Yes, I am and was, but I need Allura. The madame wants a change in the show, and I need to fill her in. Besides, now that I'm going to be in here, you can handle maitre'd duties, which we all know you love.”

“Well, that's true.” Coran smacked Lance on the shoulder. “Alright. I'll get her.”

“Thanks, Coran.” Lance's phone was already in hand, firing off texts to Pidge.

But he was grinning when he put his phone away, trusting her and her devious mindset. She wanted to see his reaction as much as Lance did, though was a bit less nervous about it. He went to one of the queens, carefully drawing her aside. He didn't want to bruise any egos here, so made her a promise knowing full well that it could come out of his own paycheck. “So I know we've got you slotted to emcee all three shows tonight, but do you mind if I grab the second one? You'll still absolutely be paid for the second one, and we can probably squeeze in an extra song for the end of the show if you wanted one.” He sent a mental apology to Pidge when she agreed, taking down the song choice and shooting it off to Pidge to plug in. “Great. We'll get you in first. Usual routine?”

“Oh, absolutely. Don't deviate from perfection.”

Lance laughed, slipping his phone away. “That's my life motto. First show's going as planned. We start in an hour, ladies!” He lifted his voice for the others to hear. “And there's been a small change to the second one.”

They were filled in as Allura came in, and he was quick to bounce to her. “Coran said there's a change in one of the shows? Lance, we don't alter shows this close.”

“I know! Pidge is already going to kill me, but it's necessary. I'm emceeing that second show Sunday and the madame wants to see what I've got. Like a mcfreaking audition.” He rolled his eyes. “Which, fine, I can handle. I offered Gloria an extra song at the beginning and emcee pay through the second show.”

“Lance.”

“It can come out of my pay. I don't care. I just need this to go well. So I need to get ready, Keith needs to not know, and-” Allura held up a hand, cutting him off. “What?”

“What do you mean Keith needs to not know? I thought the two of you were an item of sorts.”

“We _are_ an item. And it's not of sorts. It's- It's a thing. We have a thing. We're together. We're you and Shiro, but a lot less shy.”

Allura smiled, smoothing down her skirt. “Yes, well, Shiro's the shy one.”

“I know.” They grinned at one another, but Lance gave in when Allura gave him a go-ahead wave. “Look, I didn't do my first show until my senior year of college and literally no one knew. Not even Hunk, let alone Keith. Keith and I weren't even friends anymore by that point. I- How much of that do you know?”

“I have what Shiro knows from Hunk and Pidge. So enough, I imagine.”

He shrugged at her unimpressed expression, leading her to a section of the room the queens knew better than to go near. He opened his drawer, grabbing nail polish remover since the blue shade absolutely didn't match any of the outfits he had readily available. He had an outfit in mind for that night, and he'd have to pad his hips a bit to give them some curve and-

Allura cleared her throat, expectant. “Okay, okay. I know what went wrong in the past is on both of us. I put it all on Keith for a long time, but it was both of us. And now we're a thing. We're a good thing. But I'm trying not to pile on everything at once. It's one thing to like to wear dresses and toss some color on my lips, but this is- this is sort of a lifestyle? I'm asking him to accept my lifestyle, and I want to do it Sunday. I'm really not ready to hit him in the face with that today, so let's just keep Kitty quiet until then.”

Allura hummed, but accepted it with a small shrug and gestured to the bottle he'd retrieved. “Red? I don't think you've worn that shade since Christmas.”

Lance laughed, brushing the color on with a quick, practiced hand. “It's Keith's color. I'm not going to wear it- well, much of it Sunday, so I may as well today. I think I've got a darker wig here, so I'll be able to rock it right.” And it matched his panties, but he figured she didn't need to know that. “Anyway, I need you to take care of the madame for me. I have to get ready during this show and handle the girls. He remembers the place from when your dad ran it, so I thought that might be a decent place to start chitchatting.”

She smiled, laying a hand on his shoulder. “It does sound like it. Thank you, Lance. As for Keith, I'm fairly certain he'll be able to appreciate your lifestyle. He certainly appreciates you in a skirt when you're not wearing everything else.”

“Like Shiro likes how you look in a suit, I guess,” he teased and she pinched him. “I'm not wrong!”

“You still deserved it. But I will take care of the madame if you come out after the second show. Coran can handle things for the third. You'll have to join our chitchat.”

He grinned, sticking both hands into the large automated drier he kept on standby. “I'll be there.”

\----

Kitty Gallo was an explosion on stage. She sailed out on skinny heels that made long legs look even longer, and the teeny tiny red skirt left a lot of skin bare. The padded hips looked seamlessly natural, her ass pert and round enough without help. The dress clung to every inch, her shape sculpted with a practiced hand to grant her a chest that swelled above the sharp neckline. A walking hourglass with long dark curls spilling over her shoulders, eyes carefully tinted green to help the contouring of her makeup create as much an illusion as possible. After all, Keith had seen quite a bit of Lance so far. Kitty had to hold mystery until Sunday.

“ _¡Hola!_ ” Kitty’s voice was breathy, spilling Spanish more than Lance ever bothered. He did wonder if Keith knew he spoke it, unable to recall if he had in college. He flicked the thoughts away, sinking into the amazing world of the character he'd fashioned from a facet of his own personality.

She caught the attention of the floor, clients lifting their gaze, and she fed off the energy. The six o’clock crowd was the most uncertain one, but the eight o’clock one was much closer to his niche. This was the younger audience, the one seeking the spectacle, the story to tell come Monday. Her gaze fell to a straight couple near the stage, the boyfriend clearly a little irritated that his girl had dragged him to the show.

And there he went. “What's wrong, _chico_? Were you not expecting a man to look better in a dress than your _noviecita_?”

“I guess if you think you’re a man.”

His girlfriend smacked him, eyes wide and apology at the ready, but Kitty giggled. “I'll make you a deal, _capullo_. After the show, you can take me home. If your dick’s bigger than mine, I'll let you fuck me. But when mine ends up bigger than yours, you can bend over and we'll see who takes it like a man.”

His face went beet red, and Kitty waved sweetly before moving on to the next table while laughter and a few shocked gasps and giggles filled the room. Stage set.

She flitted across the stage, hips swishing as she lowered herself, knees bent to pat the cheek of someone who'd obviously come up to the stage on a dare if his snickering friends just a few feet away were of any indication. The new gays were always cute and it was a boost to her ego when wide eyes latched onto her legs and didn’t leave. “ _Eres lindo, pero joven._ Go play with boys your age, _chico_. _Adios_.” But she took his dollar with a wink and enjoyed the hell out of his shy “holy shit” when she pushed him away with her high heel.

And then she saw Keith and nearly faltered. Experience had her smiling, sending him the same sassy wave she sent everyone. “ _Quiero que relajes, chico lindo_. The stage is secure enough.”

She finished her spiel, announcing the next act and flounced off the stage with a toss of her hair and was followed by applause and laughter. Hell yes, she knew how to emcee a fucking show. Audition passed.

Keith, still standing against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, was floored. Sure, he’d seen his fair share of drag shows, had met enough queens to understand the vast range of personalities - hell, that’s how he’d first found out about his kink for guys who were into crossdressing - but he’d never seen anything like that.

Kitty was _intense_. Stunning, but intense, and she definitely brought a different atmosphere to the room, more than the last emcee that was on stage. Keith could admit that she was absolutely gorgeous, hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of those long legs that never seemed to end and that _ass_. The sight of her still burned in his mind, had him biting his lip and shifting against the wall as the first queen came out on stage.

And then he felt like a jerk. Because god damnit, he was with Lance now. He’d literally told him that his dick didn’t get hard for every dude that he saw, yet here was this _one_ queen that was turning him into a liar. And he couldn’t figure out why. It had been so long since someone had even caught his eye before Lance, he honestly didn’t know why all of a sudden he was having this fierce of a reaction to her.

Shaking himself out of it, he pushed off of the wall, needing to be away from the stage. He wandered over to the bar since Shiro was the only one he could talk to without having to actually leave the room. “So that’s Kitty?” he asked when Shiro put the drink he was making on a tray to go out.

“Mmhm. You should see her at the eleven o’clock show. She tries to be a little tame at eight.”

“I can’t even imagine what that’s like.” He propped his elbow on the bar, gaze still sweeping over the room.

“You'll see the actual show Sunday night,” Shiro reminded him. “Hunk and Pidge normally take off for whatever show Kitty picks, and this week’s...” Shiro shrugged, sliding over a shot of whiskey. On the clock or not, he looked like he could use one. “It's supposed to be a good one. You should take it off, too.”

“Thanks,” he said, lifting the glass, but not drinking it yet. “And yeah. I guess I could come out with Hunk and Pidge.” Lance had already told him yesterday he wouldn’t want to miss it. Now he wanted to know why. Especially if Kitty was going to actually be performing. He downed the whiskey, setting the shot glass back down on the bar. “I’ll be here, then.”

Shiro smiled, tapping out a quick text on his phone under the bar. “Good. Lance’ll be glad to hear you're a fan of Kitty. He's got a soft spot for her.”

In the dressing room with the other queens, Lance grinned brightly at his phone and squirmed excitedly in the tiny skirt. Sunday was going to be great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tentative schedule:  
>  ~~Ch. 1 - 11/12~~  
>  ~~Ch. 2 - 11/18~~  
>  ~~Ch. 3 - 11/25*~~  
>  ~~Ch. 4 - 12/2~~  
>  ~~Ch. 5 - 12/9~~  
>  ~~Ch. 6 - 12/16~~  
>  ~~Ch. 7 - 12/16~~
> 
> *Amy will be on vacation for Thanksgiving; this date is subject to change.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think there's some Spanish in here, but we haven't had our computers on in forever, so we didn't do the translations. But I think it's pretty easy to either figure out or look up, but I'm sorry you'd have to do that. We usually try to put the translations in... Our bad.
> 
> Also, I (Amy) was reading through this the other day and found some mistakes, but I'm on mobile and already had it saved as a draft and I'm honestly too lazy to fix them (they're nothing too major) right now. I will later. Probably. Maybe.
> 
> Anyway enjoy!

Saturday was like a vacation. The security system was up and running smoothly, Lance was comfortable with that night's queens. Pidge had the lighting and effects settled, and Hunk was aces in the kitchen as always. The bar was stocked and clean. None of them, not even Lance, walked into the building before noon.

But anticipation was running high, at least for Lance. It had amused him to ask Keith what he thought about Kitty, his boyfriend’s blush adorable. He really couldn't wait to see his reaction to the real show.

Sunday, the anticipation was doubled. He'd had to stay late with Pidge to work on his songs to avoid Keith catching him at dress rehearsal that day, but he was ready. They'd - and by “they,” it had been Pidge - remembered to cut it out of the security footage. Hopefully, Keith wouldn’t check that too closely.

Lance wandered into the security office when he made it in, setting a sugary coffee on Keith’s desk. “Morning, pretty boy.”

“Hey, babe.” Keith smiled and took a sip from the cup. Perfect, as always. “Thank you for this. Now get over here and kiss me. I missed you last night.”

Lance grinned, walking around the desk to drop into his lap. If all went well, Keith wouldn’t miss him that night. His fingers curled around the lapels of the red cropped jacket. “I don’t know how you pull this off, but you do.”

Keith shrugged, reaching up to slip his fingers in Lance's hair. “Yeah? It’s a bit shorter than I remember.”

Lance laughed, capturing his lips in a short kiss. “You might have gained an inch or two since college, but it still looks good. And you’re still shorter than me.”

“Not by that much!” He tugged at his hair playfully. “You only have like two inches on me.”

“But I'm still taller.” Lance wiggled on his lap, kissing him again. This time, he sank into it, lips parting on a sigh. They hadn’t given the camera in Lance's office a workout the day before, his interest in waiting to see what this night wrought and desire to actually fall into bed with Keith holding Lance back from more. He planned to keep things relatively chaste - there had to be a little teasing involved, always, and Lance hadn't let Keith leave without making him guess the color - this day as well, but all chastity would fly out the window that night.

Keith moaned into the kiss, licking at the roof of Lance's mouth, his teeth, anywhere his tongue could reach as his hand tightened in the short brown strands of hair. He'd decided earlier that he was going to take Lance home with him that night, was going to take the time to lay him out in his bed and worship every part of him until the sun came up. And Keith was finally going to tell Lance that he loved him, didn't think he could go another day without him knowing.

He pulled back on a gasp, his other hand coming up to rest on Lance's thigh. “Lance,” he breathed, using the grip in his hair to keep their faces close.

He pressed himself closer, fingers tightening on the old jacket. “I- Keith. I want-” There was so much need in his kiss. Lance was helpless against it, his own feelings an echo. “Take me home tonight. I want to be with you.”

“I- Yeah, that was kinda the plan.” He huffed out a breathless laugh, leaning up to steal another kiss. “I can't wait to have you in my bed.” Not even just for sex, but he wanted to hold him and, like Lance said, just _be_ with him. “I can't wait to wake up next to you,” he whispered.

Lance shivered against him, the romance behind it important to him. He really just hoped Keith still felt the same when the last show ended. Thank god there were only two, so the wait wouldn’t be as long as it would've been another night. “We won’t even have to move. We don’t need to be anywhere until the meeting here. And then I want to lay with you and watch the stars come out.”

Keith clutched onto him even tighter, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I like the sound of that.” And then, because there was no stopping his constant need to one-up Lance, he muttered, “I bet I can still name more constellations than you.”

“Oh, the hell you can.” Lance slid his hands beneath the jacket, poking his sides. “Just wait for tomorrow, buddy. You're going down.”

“On you, maybe,” he teased. “You were never even able to find Cassiopeia on your own. How do you think you're gonna beat me?”

“Hey, times change. And maybe back then I was too busy getting lost in the stars in your eyes to see the ones in the sky.” Lance nipped Keith’s lower lip. “Besides, I aced that class. I know plenty of constellations.”

“You are the sappiest person I've ever met, holy crap.” Keith couldn't resist another kiss. “But, seriously, it doesn't matter who wins. As long as you're there, I'll have already won.”

“Now who's the sappy one? But...” Lance’s lashes fluttered, smile turning just a little wicked. “Are you saying we can’t make sex bets on who can name the most?”

“We absolutely can. At that point, I won't even be mad if I lose.”

Lance grinned. “I'll make it worth your while, pretty boy.” He rose from his lap, though. “But for now, I need to get to work. Make some calls before the queens get here for dress rehearsal. It's going to be weird as hell directing Madame Chartreuse.”

“Yeah, I bet. He was very… interesting.” That was a safe word to use. “I can only imagine what she's like on stage. But you'll do great, babe.”

Still very fond of the petname, Lance reached out to give his mullet a tug. “Of course I will. I always bring my A game here. All the big personalities in one space is great.”

“Speaking of ‘big personalities’...” Keith paused to take another sip of coffee. “Kitty was phenomenal. Who is she?”

Lance snickered, poking his chest. _Phenomenal_! “Why? Are you hoping to find out if she's as hot in boy clothes?”

“Let's just say that I wouldn't mind if I was given the chance.”

Lance leaned down to kiss him again, amused and his ego boosted. “Totally is, mullet.” He straightened, tugging at the lapels of Keith’s jacket before striding around his desk. “Come bug me later. Bring food.”

Keith chuckled. “Alright. Now go.”

“Bossy,” Lance teased, smiling over his shoulder before walking out.

Their lunch was late and a little quick, but they ate together at Lance's desk and it was a sweet sort of deja vu to see Keith back in his old jacket, soft hair curling over the collar. Lance had ended up in his lap again, petting the fabric as they’d made out until his alarm went off.

Dress rehearsal went flawlessly, Keith popping in halfway through just to steal Lance’s attention and a few warm kisses that had left him smiling and the queens teasing him until they'd broken. He loved Keith so much. It was so hard not to tell him, but he would. He absolutely would once the show was over. Hopefully, things wouldn't get weird between them. It was his only fear. Finding this again only to have it be weird.

Before the first show, he checked his phone. The flurry of messages in their work conversation - he should probably add Keith - made him laugh.

There was more, a lot more, but Lance skipped over it and Pidge’s #MurderCoran flurry. He loved this weird family of his, was more than happy enough to add Keith to it.

At a quarter after six, Kitty sailed onto stage to pump the hype for their celebrity guest. The normal six o’clock rules didn’t apply, the crowd made up of true fans rather than the middle-aged to senior crowd. She gave them her eleven o’clock energy, sinking into the splits at a dare and blessing yoga for the way Keith’s eyes went wide. Poor boyfriend, just trying to do his job, getting all distracted. Kitty blew him a kiss just to see him blush, and soon sailed backstage again so the actual show could begin.

When she went out again at the end to remind everyone that the madame would be available to sign autographs between shows, she didn’t see Keith out there. Probably getting ready to call it a night just like Pidge and Hunk and, god, if they didn’t sit at their usual table next to the stage, her whole gameplan would fall apart. She waved to the crowd, ducking back in and letting Coran handle Madame Chartreuse and her need for a guard on stage while fans rushed to stand in line and meet her for only a few seconds.

Kitty waved to Allura, smile bright when she waved back and ducked into the second dressing room. They didn’t have a lot of kings, so their room was decidedly smaller, but it was still available.

“Hey, Kitty!”

“ _Hola,_ Pidge.” Kitty slid by her to start wiping makeup. She wanted to redo it, let it follow the natural lines of the face more. The next time she was on stage, the goal wasn’t going to be hiding. Still keeping the illusion, but not hiding. “ _¿Cómo estás?_ ”

“Just wanted to let you know that Hunk has our table claimed. And Shiro wanted me to bring you a shot.”

Kitty tugged off the wig, Lance downing the tequila in a quick swallow. “Gotta love some liquid courage.”

“Yeah. Sure. If that's what you want to call it.” She shook her head. “I've got my assistant on effects for this show. He knows that if he fucks up, he's dead. So everything should go smoothly.”

“Good. Thanks, Pidge.”

“No problem. Good luck.” He gave her a thumbs-up and she strolled out and headed for the security office, knocking briefly. “Hey, Keith!”

“Hey, Pidge. What's up?” he asked, rising from his chair.

“Second show’s starting soon. Me and Hunk have our usual table ready, so let's go. You're off the clock, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm coming.” He followed her from the office back out to the main part of the club, taking the seat beside Hunk at the table. “So what's so special about this show, anyway? I thought the first one was the important one?”

“No!” Pidge grinned. “Allura’s emceeing this one, which is rare enough in itself. We'll be able to laugh at Shiro because he'll inevitably pour a drink wrong. But! What it really means is-”

“Kitty’s performing!” Hunk reminded him. “Actually performing and not just emceeing.”

 _Oh, yeah_. “Right.” God, this was gonna be an interesting night. He wished Lance could be out there with them, but knew that he had to deal with the queens. He'd hunt him down after the show. For now… “I need a drink.”

“You're only getting one, so nurse it,” Pidge warned, rising so they didn't bother one of the waitresses. They were busy enough scrambling to get things ready between shows. “Hunk?”

“Me and my pitcher of water are best friends, so I'm fine.”

“You just want whatever Shiro pours you, or do you have a request, Keith?”

He thought about asking for his regular straight whiskey, but decided he'd try something different tonight and leave it in Shiro’s capable hands. He smiled. “Tell him to surprise me.”

“Got it.” Pidge grinned, and made her way to the bar. “Hey, Shiro. Keith wants a surprise. He's only getting one drink tonight, so make sure it's amazing.”

He chuckled, setting both whiskey and tequila on the bar. “Let’s see what I can do.”

He called it a Maple Margarita, and it definitely wasn’t on the normal menu. Pidge set the glass down in front of Keith a few minutes later. “So I don’t have any idea what this is, and I watched him make it. But here you go. Nurse it, man. We've got an hour and a half, depending. Sunday’s second show usually runs late.”

“I'm not trying to get drunk, Pidge. I promise.” Keith picked up the glass, sniffing the contents before taking a sip, licking some of the salt and sugar combination from the rim. “That's… actually amazing? I don't know how Shiro does it.”

“Because he's Shiro,” Hunk decided. “The dude’s totally awesome.”

Pidge nodded, taking her seat. “It has whiskey and tequila in it with a bunch of other crazy things. I have no idea.”

“Well, thanks.” There wasn't too much time left before the show was set to start, and Keith could feel himself getting both nervous and excited about being able to see Kitty again. He shifted in his seat, trying to make himself more comfortable.

They were at a rounded table at the stage, the three of them on one side so they could all see the show. There was a reason they only took up this table one show a week. It was the best one available. A hush fell over the room when the lights dimmed and the music hushed.

Allura’s style was a flip on Kitty’s. He swaggered onto stage in a sharp suit as the music swelled, commanding the room with an air of regality rather than the fun, spicy glamour. It was still captivating and stunning, Shiro spilling the same drink twice over at the bar. He whirled off stage with a saucy bow and a tip of his hat. It was a mystery, even to those who knew him out of drag, how the usually long, flowing white hair vanished into a sleek fringe.

The show’s order was altered for this one. A classic queen followed, and they'd grow bolder. Madame Chartreuse was still the centerpiece and headliner for most of the crowd, so she was up last. For the trio at the table, it was the second-to-last performer that mattered most.

And Kitty was not about to disappoint.

She shot out on gold pumps, pleated skirt navy, short, and flared when she twirled. Her stomach was smoothed, normal abs carefully dusted to soften them. Her mesh crop top was the same gold as the heels, with a sheer navy backing. Her hair was short, curling over her shoulders, and her eyes were their true blue shade, lashes long and as sparkling blue as her lips.

She found Keith quickly. “Who's that sexy thing, I see over there?” She hit a quick pin drop suddenly enough for the skirt to flare up, flashing the briefest hint of navy panties. She tapped her chest. “That's me, standin’ in the mirror,” the song continued, Kitty rising in a quick corkscrew.

The song was pure brag, ego pumping through the speakers and flowing through every movement. And, god, was there movement. Her hips rocked tirelessly, only padded a little bit when the highlight was her ass and those long, long legs. She wasn't shy about posing, about perching at the corners of tables. Dollars disappeared quickly and mysteriously, and Pidge and Hunk positively showered Keith in them as she came closer to their table.

Keith was stuck frozen in his seat, eyes wide as he watched Kitty cross the stage towards him, looking like pure sex on legs with every swagger of her hips. He wanted to yell at Pidge and Hunk for bringing so much attention to himself, but couldn't tear his gaze away from all of that bare skin on display and those bright blue eyes that looked all too familiar. She was even more gorgeous than the other day, if that were possible, and he still felt like a total ass for ogling her so openly. He squirmed in his chair, gripping the neck of his glass tightly as she finally made it to their table.

Kitty fluttered over Hunk and Pidge the same way she had for the rest of the clients who offered her cash, but Keith got special attention. Not only was there cash sticking out of his shirt - and it was a relief to see his jacket hanging off the back of his chair; she couldn't exactly strip an apparent customer - but it was _Keith_. She perched on the edge of the table right in front of him, skirt dangerously high on her thighs, and placed a heel on his chair, forcing his thighs to spring apart or get stepped on.

She smirked, playfully counting the cash she collected from him and then twirled behind him, still lip syncing. She gripped the back of Keith's chair. “I'd wanna be me.” She tipped him back, tapping a finger to his lips. “Too.”

 _Holy shit_. Keith had no idea how to handle this, had never had this type of attention on him before. Definitely not from a queen as gorgeous as Kitty Gallo. The urge to reach out and touch was prickling so intensely under his skin, but he knew better than to break that particular code of conduct. Instead he sat still, watching the provocative display, his brain melting out of his ears, dick already half-hard in his jeans, and- _Jesus_ , what the hell was happening to him?

When Kitty released his chair, she returned it to its upright position and swept his jacket from the back too quickly for him to notice. She almost would've been jealous by his reactions if she hadn't been intentionally seeking them, so was thrilled by him instead. This boded very well.

For the last thirty seconds of the song, she made her way back to the stage. Keith’s jacket was flaunted like a prize, playfully dangled from her fingers when she saw his realization and then tossed over her shoulder as she shimmied and popped on stage for the bass-pumping celebration of self the song inspired. And at the song’s abrupt end, she blew Keith a kiss and vanished behind the curtain with his jacket still in her hold.

Keith whirled around to face Pidge and Hunk. “Wh- What the hell was _that_?!” he demanded, on the verge of falling out of his chair.

“What? The jacket?” Pidge grinned. “You'll get it back at the end of the show.”

He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. “How can you be so sure about that?”

“Because-”

“Because she's Lance!” Hunk broke in.

“Hunk!” Pidge snapped

“Yes!” He pumped his fist. “I got to tell him! Ha!”

Pidge kicked him under the table. “You're awful! I was so ready to tell him!”

Keith let them bicker for a minute, still trying to wrap his head around Hunk’s exclamation. “Wait, what?” he cut in. “That was _Lance_?” _Holy shit_.

“Well, her name is Kitty Gallo in drag. Out of drag, Lance McClain,” Pidge explained, wry grin returning.

“How did you think he found this place?” Hunk laughed. “He was doing a show. Well, I guess she was.”

“Yep. This is also how he knows basically all the queens. Lance has literally worked all of the clubs around here at least once.”

“I-” Keith didn't know what to say. Besides being incredibly turned on, now even more so that he knew that Kitty Gallo was his _fucking_ boyfriend, he was a little bit in shock. But it was such a good thing. “Oh my god, guys.” He found himself falling in love all over again. “I love him.”

“Yeah, duh.” Pidge grinned. “But you're kinda telling the wrong people.”

Hunk nodded. “At least wait until after the show before you go back there. He picked out his songs with you in mind.”

As much as he wanted to say _screw that_ and go find Lance - Kitty, whatever - he stayed in his seat, blushing because he couldn't believe he'd just blurted that out in front of his friends before he'd actually gotten to tell Lance. “Y- yeah, okay.” If Lance had picked out the next song specifically for him, he’d watch and listen closely.

“Especially since I had to change the effects and lighting for him. _Twice_ ,” Pidge complained. “He's usually the first one done, but instead we're here til two in the freaking morning. Idiot.”

“Heh, yeah.” Right, Lance had told him the other night at dinner that there was a change in Kitty’s routine. _Something pretty big happened this week_ , he'd said. It had been the sole cause for it. _Love_. And, _oh my_ _god_ , he finally understood what he meant. Lance loved him too. “Holy shit.”

“Ten bucks says he just figured out that Lance loves him too.”

Hunk scoffed. “No way, Pidge. I know better than to make obvious bets like that.”

“...shut up.” Keith couldn't wait until the show was over so he could haul Lance out of there with him, but he also wanted to see him perform again. He sank into his chair, downing the rest of his drink. “You guys are the worst.”

They exchanged glances and nodded, looking back at Keith. “Yeah,” Hunk agreed.

“We can get behind that.” Pidge grinned, tapping out a quick text to Lance.

It wasn’t long in coming. They had to wait through the three queens ahead of him, but Kitty was out soon enough. She’d changed makeup and wigs again, this one spilling curls down her back and over her shoulders where Keith’s jacket rested. The makeup was lighter, brighter. Her lips were the same ice blue as the flowing dress she wore, cut high in front to trail wispily in the back. Her heels were still staggeringly high, but silver now to match the band cinched at her waist.

The song didn’t have much of a lead in, but she didn’t work like that. Kitty made her point right out of the gate. It wasn’t the straight love song Lance had initially wanted for her, but there was an audience to cater to outside of her target and it was at least a song about loving. Plus, Kitty could still groove to the beat as she weaved around the room.

She aimed her gaze at Keith for the first lines, the knowledge in his gaze swelling her heart. “ _Won’t say a thing about the way you love me,_ ” she mouth, hips swishing as she sank down, “ _except for I like the way, I love the way you touch me_.” She bounced back up when the lyrics picked up tempo, and shimmied her way around the room again as the song flowed.

Pidge dropped a ten on Keith’s lap with a snicker.

He couldn't even find it in himself to be annoyed at her. Not now that he knew that it was _Lance_ under all the makeup and flashy clothes and he was _allowed to look_. He listened to the lyrics of the song, wriggling in the chair as Kitty made her way over again. _Come put my love against your kiss_. And, _oh_ , he absolutely would later. Right after he confessed his love and got him home.

He grabbed the bill from his lap, but didn't move it away. Instead, he held it palm up on his thigh, a challenge in his eyes when he caught Kitty’s on the stage.

She wasn’t supposed to go for it. She knew it even as she went in close, fitting herself between him and the table, and Lance would probably get in trouble for it later. But Kitty still laid her hands on him, one covering the bill on his palm and the other cupping the other thigh. “ _Show me how much you mean it by the way that you please me._ ”

She eased back, perched on the edge of the table, and eased the jacket off her rocking shoulders. “ _Slow, baby baby, just like that. Oh, baby, baby, turn me out. Oh, baby, baby, it's your turn now_.” She swung the jacket over his shoulders, gripping the lapels of it to drag him close and actually sang the words aloud against his lips. “It’s your turn now.” Every rule was shattered when Keith was given a quick kiss, and then Kitty was sweeping away to return to the stage for the last ten seconds of the song.

“ _If you learn now, if you learn now, if you learn how, I’ll stay._ ” She blew Keith a kiss over her shoulder and disappeared as the song ended.

Keith could feel practically every eye in the club on him, and he leaned back in his seat, smug smile slowly forming over his face through the raging blush. He turned back to Pidge and Hunk quickly before the madame could go back on. “How much trouble do you think we’d be in if I go back there right now?”

“Uh. After that?” Hunk smiled. “Bye.”

“Seriously. You’re off the clock, and his performances for the night are done.” Pidge waved. “See you tomorrow at the meeting, Keith.”

“Yeah, bye.” He was already halfway out of the chair, slipping his arms back into the sleeves of his jacket and ignoring the looks being shot his way. There was a flurry of activity when he made it to the dressing room, but his attention was focused on just one person.

Kitty - _Lance_ \- was at one of the large counters near the back of the room, already working on removing the makeup. They locked eyes in the mirror just before Keith got close enough to whirl him around and press a solid kiss to his mouth. His tongue sought out Lance’s, sliding easily between parted lips as he crowded him up against the counter.

Lance moaned into it, arms wrapping around him so his fingers could curl into Keith's shirt beneath the jacket. He lapped at Keith’s tongue, letting him explore, and arched against him when his back hit the counter. It was a better reaction than he’d hoped for before the show had started, but the way those eyes had followed him during left no doubts as to Keith’s enjoyment and acceptance of this part of him.

Keith pulled back after a minute, hands going to Lance's hips to grip tightly, resting their brows together as his breaths came in shallow pants. “Lance, oh my god,” he murmured, pulling him even closer. “I am so in love with you.”

Lance’s breath caught. The dozens of quips he’d been ready to make died on his tongue as the soft words shook through him. He’d been so ready to express the sentiment himself, but he hadn’t expected to hear it. He hadn’t prepared for that, “I-” Keith loved him. The jerk who’d left him behind in a confused panic had come back, grown up and solid and ready to stay. Lance blinked rapidly to keep threatening tears at bay. “I love you too, Keith.”

Keith's smile grew wider with the confirmation, and he leaned in for another kiss. He let go of Lance's hips to cup his face instead, brushing his thumbs along to tops of his cheeks. “You should finish taking your makeup off so I can take you home and make love to you.”

Lance’s laugh was a little watery, but he turned back to the mirror and recollected his makeup removal wipes. “Gonna show me how much you mean it, _chico lindo_?”

“Absolutely.” He wrapped his arms around Lance's middle, settling his chin on his shoulder, and watched him work. “You looked so gorgeous out there, Lance. I felt bad for looking until I knew it was you.”

“I know. I thought it was cute.” Lance smirked, rubbing his ass against him playfully. “So how do you think Kitty looks in boy clothes?”

Keith turned his face into Lance's neck and kissed him. “I think you look beautiful in anything you decide to wear,” he mumbled into his skin.

“No, no, no. No. See, that’s not- I’m trying to tease you so I don’t cry because you love me, and that’s- It feels like I’ve been waiting for that for years.” Lance leaned into him, his makeup cleaned of everything but the blue lipstick since he liked the shade. “Being sweet isn’t going to help me not cry, you asshole.”

Smiling, Keith spun him around and stole another kiss. “Well, you're just gonna have to cry, then, because I do love you and I'm gonna show you every day just how much.”

 _Every day_. “God damn it, Keith. _Te matare. Eres un culo_.” Lance squirmed. “I’m not changing. I’ve got an overnight bag and a jacket in my car. Take me home.”

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, Keith backed away and grabbed Lance's hand. “Let's go get your stuff, then. Come on.”

“Just need my wallet and my keys. I left them in my office.” He snagged his phone off the counter, firing off a text to Coran. He waved at the queens who had not-so-subtly been watching them, earning a few wolf whistles and good-natured insults as he let Keith drag him out and into his office.

He reached for his things, but made the mistake of looking over his shoulder to send Keith an easy smile. It hit him, and hit hard, what was happening. His fingers trembled, keys jingling softly. Holy shit, that was his. Keith was his. He’d spent two years in college wishing for that. He’d spent years since lamenting and trying to forget that wish. And he’d spent a week - not even, he’d spent _six days_ falling headlong into the same wish. But Keith was still right there. Accepting, even welcoming, his lifestyle. Simple crossdressing or the full drag, he was on board enough that he’d said the words first.

Lance dropped his things back to the desk and turned towards him fully, toying with the hem of the skirt. “Say it again. That you love me. Just trying to make sure that this is reality.”

“I love you.” He crossed the short distance between them to take Lance's hands in his, stilling his fidgeting. “I'm _in_ _love_ with you, Lance.”

“Damn it. I love you too.” He didn’t quell the tears this time, but pressed his lips to Keith’s on a needy sound.

Keith parted them to let Lance's tongue in, and he was able to taste the saltiness of the tears streaking his cheeks. He released Lance's hands, lifting his to gently swipe his thumbs under his eyes. He still couldn't quite believe that he was allowed to have this, that Lance was _there_ , and that he loved him back. His eyes stayed open even as Lance's slipped shut, watching as he cried silently and clung to him.

“I love you.” Lance mumbled it into the kiss, backing into the desk so he draw Keith closer. He didn’t want to ever stop kissing him, didn’t ever want to let him go. “Love you so much.” His mouth slid to Keith’s neck. “Take me home. Be with me.”

Keith laughed a little incredulously, digging his fingers into Lance's shoulders. “M’trying to.” He reached down to grab Lance's stuff himself, careful not to dislodge him. “Alright, babe, it's time to go. ‘Cause I don't know how much longer I can hold out and, as fun as blowjobs are in the office, I want to make love to you in my bed.”

“Hey, I told you you were gonna make me cry. This is _your_ fault as usual.” But Lance still let him go to wipe his eyes. He wanted Keith’s hands on him as much as he wanted his hands touching in turn. “If you were wondering, you’re worth the wait.”

“I'm still sorry I ever left,” Keith muttered, leaning back in to kiss both of his tear-stained cheeks. “But I'm never making that mistake again. You're never getting rid of me now.”

His eyes wanted to water again, so Lance pushed him. “Home. Bed. Now.”

“Yeah. Yeah, come on.” Keith dragged him from the room, using the back door to make their escape into the parking lot. They stopped by Lance's hatchback to grab his stuff, spending another minute making out against the door, before Keith lifted him onto the back of his bike.

Since he knew they were going to be spending a long time on Red tomorrow, he took the short way home, wanting nothing more tonight than to get Lance in bed. His arms were tighter around him now than ever before, and Keith could feel his heart beating wildly against his back, could feel tears soaking through his shirt into his shoulder blade. He didn't want Lance to cry, but knowing that they were actually _happy_ tears made him feel a little less shitty about it.

They pulled up to his apartment building fifteen minutes later. Keith cut the engine and climbed off first, wrapping his arms around Lance in a firm hug to drag him off the back. “Come on, babe. As beautiful as you look in those clothes, I wanna see you out of them completely now.”

“Same to you, pretty boy.” Pretty sure that he’d shed all the tears he was going to, Lance smirked. “But you’ve seriously got to stop just picking me up, jesus.”

“Never.” Keith smiled, and though he didn't pick Lance up again, he reached out to take his bag from him and tangled their fingers together. He tugged Lance up the walkway and up to his floor, stopping briefly by the door so he could unlock it.

Once they were inside, Keith kicked it shut, flipped the latch, and dropped Lance’s bag by the couch before pushing him up against the wall and kissing him again. He dropped his hands back to Lance’s ass, kneading through the short skirt.

Lance pressed back against his hands, a whimper filling the kiss. He wanted to be with him, to be taken by him. Taken care of by him. He wasn’t quite sure what to do about that last thought. Sex was just sweaty fun, and it wasn’t like he was some virgin. It just... felt special. He squirmed against Keith, blaming the tears for the mood, and tugged at his shirt. “Bed.”

“Y-yeah.” Keith did pick him up this time, using the grip he had Lance to lift him up, giving him no choice but to wrap his legs around his waist. He walked them through to his bedroom, flipping on the lamp next to the bed, then knelt onto the foot of the mattress, slowly bending forward until Lance's back hit the sheets.

Keith was hit with a sudden wave of emotion as he leaned back, hovering over him. Lance looked as gorgeous as always, stretching out in his bed and making himself right at home. It looked so _right_ to have him there. “Lance… You- This is where you belong. With me.” Keith fell forward, needing to kiss him again. “I love you so much.”

Keith’s weight was solid, Lance unable to help but spread his legs, band them around his waist to keep him in place while his hands slid into his mullet. He could belong there. He could belong anywhere if Keith was right there with him. “I love you too. You’re so beautiful, Keith.” He trailed kisses along his jawline. “I want you to have me.”

“God, Lance. Yeah.” Keith sat back up, pulled his shirt over his head and threw it across the room. His hands fell to the bottom of Lance's dress, slowly inching it up his legs until it pooled over his waist. There was already a wet spot on the blue panties that were stretched over his cock, and Keith couldn't resist touching him, cupping him in one hand and squeezing slightly, swiping his thumb across the wet part of the fabric. “Can you undo your belt? I want this dress off of you.”

Lance nodded, a moan escaping. “It- it hooks in the back, so... I’m gonna use your shoulders.” He lifted his legs, hooking them over Keith’s shoulders in a smooth display of his flexibility, and undid the belt with ease. Satin and lace slid down, pooling around his chest. “That better, pretty boy?”

Keith hummed, lowering Lance's legs back to the bed. He'd definitely take advantage of that flexibility later, but right now he just wanted to get Lance naked. The dress was removed over his head; Keith made sure to take a little more care with it, rising from the bed to drape it over the side of his laundry hamper. While he was up, he made short work of the rest of his clothes, dropping them into a pile on the floor. He slipped the panties down Lance's legs, tossing them aside, then crawled back onto the mattress. “Absolutely gorgeous,” he breathed, letting his hands wander along Lance's bare skin.

His hands seemed to light little fires beneath Lance’s skin, making his breath hitch on a moan. Lance reached for him, a hand tangling in his hair to draw him down for another kiss and the other stroked down his back. “You’re so good, Keith. Love your hands, love you.” His lips trailed along his jaw, glided down his neck with little nips of his teeth.

“Mm, love you too.” _So goddamn much_. Keith reached over to the table, grabbing out his bottle of lube and dropping it next to Lance's hip. “I'm gonna make you feel so good, babe.” His fingers wrapped around Lance's length, lightly stroking him while his other hand massaged Lance's thigh.

Lance pressed his head back on a groan, legs spreading and hips lifting in search of more. “Keith,” he breathed, “Keith, please...” His head felt as though it it was full of clouds, a hazy fog of warm pleasure leaving his limbs heavy, but he had to touch. The hand on his back slid around, fingers tracing the lines of his abs and soon finding his dick to stroke him in turn.

Keith moaned, bucking his hips gently. “Lance, oh god.” He let go of him to pick the lube back up, pushing at his legs so they were bent at the knees with his feet planted on the mattress. He poured some of it onto his fingers, dipping in between Lance's cheeks to just barely press against the rim. “Will you fuck me after I come inside you?”

Biting his lip, Lance rocked his hips to encourage his hand. The imagery sparked his brain, a whimper escaping as he nodded. “Oh my god, Keith. I want- yeah. Yes. Want that, want you.”

 _Yes_. He let one finger slip into Lance's hole, pushing all the way to the second knuckle before drawing back out and pressing two in. Lance was so tight around them, clenching down as he started to stretch him with small scissoring movements. “Fuck, Lance, the next time we do this, I'm plugging you up when I'm done. Gonna fill you up and keep you wet all day.” He twisted his wrist and crooked his fingers at the same time, pressing up into Lance's prostate.

Lance cried out, back arching. “Keith! I-” Using his planted feet to his advantage, he bucked his hips to get more faster. His mind was slipping, sensation ruling. “I brought- Stuff, toys. I want it, Keith. Wanna feel you all day. Be so good for you.” Anything he wanted.

 _Holy shit_. Lance was killing him, but he felt too good to care. He took his fingers out, dripping more lube on them, then slid three back in. “To- Tomorrow. We'll sleep in, and I'll fuck you before we go to the meeting so you have to sit through it like that.” Nevermind what it would feel like for Lance on the bike ride back to the club. He was definitely going to take the long way there. “Tonight I want to see it dripping out of you.”

“Y-yeah, yes. Anything, please. Please, please-!” He begged shamelessly, dazed and needy. His cock was already dripping onto his stomach. “K-Keith, fuck me. Fill me up. I wanna feel you, please.” The hand that had been on him had fallen to the sheets to provide an anchor, but he lifted it again to curl around Keith’s length and pump. “Come on, pretty boy. Take me so I can have you, Keith.”

“Fuck. Yeah.” Keith pulled his hand away, pouring more lube onto his cock to slick himself, then guided the tip to press slowly into Lance's hole. The hand that he used to stretch Lance reached around to his own entrance, and he pushed two fingers into himself, moaning as he sank deeper inside of Lance.

“Oh my god. Fuck, Keith.” Lance writhed beneath him, moaning as he was filled, rim stretching around Keith’s length. He reached out, gripping his shoulders tight enough to leave bruises. “You feel so good. You-” English couldn’t cover it, sensation overwhelming his mind. And knowing he was stretching himself, preparing himself for Lance’s cock, was distressingly arousing. “ _Me encanta, chico lindo_. Fuck...!”

“Lance, _yes_ , oh-” Keith's free hand landed on Lance's knee, spreading him just a bit wider until he was in to the hilt, his thighs pressed to the backs of Lance's. He stilled his hips for a moment as he worked a third finger into himself, but couldn't stop the sudden thrust forward. “Oh my god, you f- feel fucking incredible.” He started moving, thrusting shallowly, but gradually building up speed until their hips slapped together with each movement.

Lance moved with him, a hand tangling in his hair to pull. “That-” His words fell away, moans replacing them. His legs lifted, wrapping around his waist. “So- so good,” he managed. “Faster, Keith. That’s-” He cried out when he complied, back bowing. Lance’s free hand slid down to cup his ass, squeezing. “How, _oh_ , how many fingers, Keith? Bet- bet you can do four.”

“Sh- _shit_.” He’d been just about to pull them out, wanted to use both hands on Lance's hips to be able to thrust deeper, faster, but- “Yeah.” Stopping his movements, Keith rearranged his knees, and then his little finger was being pressed inside. His head fell forward on a loud groan as they brushed against his prostate, and _fuck_ he was close. “ _Lance_ -!” He started moving again, thrusting as hard and fast as he could. “Gon- gonna come.”

“Wanna see you, Keith. Wanna feel you.” Lance slid his hand between Keith’s cheeks, rubbing a finger against his stretched rim. “I’m gonna- _fuck_ \- be the first guy to fill you with come. You’ll be s-so wet, Keith, just for me. Just fill me up first, pretty boy. Nice a-and deep.” To see if he could take it, Lance pushed his index finger into Keith when his hand next thrusted.

“ _F_ \- _Fuck_ , Lance!” Keith pressed as close as he could, as deep as he could, when his orgasm washed over him. He came hard, his come coating Lance's walls. There seemed to be so much of it, already able to see it oozing out of his hole around his dick. “Lance, _please_.”

Lance whined, tugging hard on Keith’s hair. His own cock throbbed, neglected between them, and he was so tempted to just stay as they were and jerk himself off. “Oh, god. Oh my god, Keith. So good, ‘m gonna leak all around that plug tomorrow. Fuck.” He grabbed his wrist, drawing his hand away from his hole, and used the grip of his legs to flip them. He sat up, hips rolling as he slowly lifted up. He felt stretched and empty when Keith’s length slipped out, come dripping obscenely from his ass as he reached for the lube. “When I’m done fucking you, I’m gonna lick you clean. You can come down my throat or wherever you want, Keith. Love the way you look when you let go.” He slicked up his length, struggling not to thrust into his own fist. “Loved the way you looked at me when I was on that stage. God, Keith, you’re so gorgeous.”

“Lance. Lance, come on, _please_.” The babbling was getting to him, Lance saying some of the filthiest and sweetest things. “ _Fuck_. Fuck me. Want your come, babe. Need it.” Keith reached down between Lance's legs, past his cock, and dragged his fingers through the come dripping down his leg. He eyed it appreciatively before bringing them to his mouth to lick it off.

“Cripes, Keith. You’re a kinky goldmine, aren’t you? I’m gonna find out every single one of your kinks, mullet.” He guided himself to his entrance, pressing the head in, and rubbed Keith’s abdomen as he sank deeper until he was fully seated. “You’re so hot around me, pretty boy. ‘M not gonna last.” Lance leaned down, nipping Keith’s shoulder. “How’s it feel to just have skin inside you?”

Keith groaned, squirming underneath him. “Feels- s’good. So good. Ama - _ah_ \- amazing. Better ‘cause it's you.” He wasn’t as flexible as Lance, but he was still able to get his feet hooked behind Lance’s legs. “C’mon, don’t need it to last. Need you. Please.”

Lance grabbed his hands, lacing their fingers as he started to thrust. He started shallow, waiting for Keith to move in response before picking up the speed and depth of his movements. His hips were as tireless in this as they were when he danced, smooth and in tempo. “You feel so good, so incredible. So tight, sweetheart.” He didn’t know where the petname came from, didn’t bother thinking about it when he was so close to letting go. “I love you. I'm gonna love you forever. Fuck, Keith-!”

“Yes, _yes_ , Lance. Love you. F-for a lifetime. Always.” Keith tightened his grip on Lance's hands, meeting him thrust-for-thrust. Everything was so intense, the feeling of Lance's cock big and bare inside him, the thought of being filled to the brim with his release, the knowledge that he was going to be able to keep Lance forever… It was overwhelming and he almost felt like he was going to cry, too. “ _Lance_! Oh my god, please.”

Unable to resist his plea or his own need, Lance plunged deep and let go. He dropped his brow to Keith’s shoulder, outcry muffled by his skin. His thrusts continued, just little motions that kept him deep until he was spent and Keith was full of him. “Keith...”

“ _Oh_ , Lance.” One hand let go of Lance's to reach up and tangle in his hair. “That- It feels-” It was _good_. He wriggled his hips and clenched around him so he could feel just how much Lance's release was filling him. “Good. So good. I love you.”

“I love you too. My pretty, filthy boy. _Ay, chico lindo_ , you're incredible.” Lance drew his hips back slowly, lips curved. “And now I'm gonna lick you clean.” He started kissing his way down, taking his time the way he'd wanted to in his office. “How do you feel about cock rings?”

“Mm, yeah.” He moaned, arching his back off the bed. Lance's come was slowly trickling out of him onto the sheets, leaving him feeling empty, but sated. “Love ‘em,” he breathed, flexing his fingers against Lance’s scalp. “Wanna use one on you so I can suck your dick for hours.”

Lance hummed around one of his nipples, teasing the bud into hardness while his fingers pinched and rolled the other. “I will definitely let you do that. Will you wear one for me while I ride you?”

“ _Yes_.” And _god_ he couldn't remember ever being this sensitive. “Yeah, babe, anything.” Literally anything. “I want it all. Everything, with you.”

“Well, we’ve got a lifetime.” Hand and mouth switched, but only briefly before he was kissing a wet trail to his abs. His tongue started a leisurely trail along the lines of muscle, sucking little red marks into his skin here and there. “And I'm gonna use it to find out everything that makes you feel like this.”

“Yeah, come on, Lance.” Keith whined, pushing his hips up. “Gonna do the same with you.”

“I don’t doubt it, pretty boy. You're mine.” Lance lapped lower, but evaded his dick to push his legs apart and nuzzle his inner thigh. He wanted to mark him, brand him in one of the most intimate places he could.

“Yours, Lance.” Keith went along with him, spreading his legs even further apart to give him more room. “And you're mine.”

And he was going to stay Keith’s as long as Keith stayed. Lance smiled up at him and pushed three fingers into his wet entrance without warning. “I want you to bite me before next week's show. I want to dance all over that room with your mark on my neck.”

“ _Lance_! Fuck, oh my god.” Keith pushed back against his fingers, seeking more friction despite the sensitivity of his already stretched rim. “Yes, yes, yes, want- _need_ everyone to know that you're mine. My Lance, _my queen_.” And holy shit, yeah, _Kitty_ was his, too. “Pl-please.”

Lance leaned down, free hand curling around Keith’s length. His mouth lowered, tongue flicking over the head in eager little moves. “Oh my god, I'm your queen.” He'd never actually considered that, used to keeping Kitty separate from Lance. But he was Keith's, all the way. Every part of him belonged to him, including her. He slid low on a moan, suckling Keith’s length down.

Groaning, Keith slid his free hand into Lance's hair to join the other, bucking up slightly off the mattress. The sensations were almost too much, and he was getting dangerously close to a second orgasm. “L-Lance. So- so good.” His fingers stroked through Lance's soft strands, encouraging his movements as much as holding him there. “Good. Good Kitty.”

 _Holy shit_. Lance took him to the root in one motion, sucking firmly. He squeezed Keith’s thigh with his free hand. The other thrusted, fingers spreading, curling in to find his prostate and rub.

 _Fuck_. “Lance! _Kitty_! Lance, oh-!” The only other warning he gave Lance was a tap to the top of his head, hips thrusting up as he spilled his release down Lance's throat. “Fuck, _god_.”

Lance swallowed him down eagerly, lifting his head just enough to taste him. Withdrawing his fingers once Keith was spent, he sucked them clean and crawled up to sprawl atop him and sink into a kiss. No one called him Kitty offstage. But Keith saw both parts of him, wanted both parts. “I love you,” he mumbled into the kiss. “Keith, I love you so much. _Te amo_.”

Wrapping his arms around Lance's shoulders, Keith dragged him closer, burying his face in his neck. “I love you too, Lance. Always.” He bent his leg, slipping it in between Lance's thighs, pressing his knee up against his dick. “Now come on. Want you to come again, babe, come all over me.”

“And ruin all my hard work?” Lance rutted against his thigh for a moment before sitting up and straddling his waist. He slid his hands down Keith’s torso. “You're so gorgeous.”

Keith dug his fingers into Lance's hips, pulling him forward, higher, to sit on his chest. “And you're beautiful, as both Lance and Kitty. God, I- I love it, love you.” One of his hands moved to wrap around Lance's cock, stroking slowly. “And if you don't wanna clean up again then come in my mouth. Just _give it to me_.”

“We're gonna have to clean up anyway.” Lance rocked into the touch, bending forward and curling one hand around the headboard. The other slid into Keith’s hair. “Touch me, pretty boy. If you want it, take it.”

“ _Yes_.” Keith dragged him even closer until the tip of his cock nudged his lips. He parted them, taking the head inside and suckling, pressing his tongue into the slit. His hand worked along Lance's shaft, the other cupping his balls as best he could.

Lance whined, pushing his hips forward into the welcoming heat of his mouth. “Oh, Keith,” he panted, tugging his hair. “Your mouth’s so good, so pretty.”

Humming around him, Keith took more of him in. The angle was all wrong for what he really wanted, but the taste was still there, his tongue rubbing along the bottom of his length. He used both hands to squeeze him, wanting him to come, and come fast, needing it to coat the back of his throat so he could taste it all night.

It didn’t take long, Lance sensitive from what they'd already done and eager to curl up close to him and just hold on. He came on a hard suck, Keith’s name an outcry as he spilled down his throat.

Keith swallowed it all down, licking come off the roof of his mouth and Lance's cockhead. He leaned his head back when Lance was spent, letting him slip out. “God, I love the way you taste,” he breathed, running his hands up Lance's sides. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He slid down, nuzzling into his neck. “A week ago, you were this huge regret in my life and now I'm in your bed. Holy crow, Keith.”

Keith smiled, wrapping his arms around him once more. “And I'm so happy that you're here. I'll never say it enough, but thank you. For the second chance. For everything.” He rearranged them on top of the mattress so they were lying close together on their sides facing each other, brushing his fingers up and down Lance’s arm. “I'm so in love with you, Lance. I'll never stop proving it to you.”

“All I need is for you to stay and still care about me while you're here.” Lance tucked an arm around him, petting the small of his back, kissing him soundly. “You're not doing a bad job, pretty boy.”

“Mm, not going anywhere.” He turned his face to yawn and then buried into Lance’s neck, tugging him closer with an arm thrown around his waist. “M’tired.”

“Mmhm.” Lance smiled, kissing his temple as his eyes closed. “Nap now, shower later.”

Keith snuggled in, blindly reaching down to pull the sheet over them. “I like the sound of that.”

Lance’s hands slowed its strokes, stilling as he drifted off. Keith had been well worth the wait. The open acceptance and attraction to his lifestyle and the easy comfort he felt in his presence had been impossible to find in the years since college, at least not in tandem and definitely not with someone he wanted to consider as more than a friend.

Whatever had brought them back together, be it something as incomprehensible as Fate or something as simple as coincidence, he was grateful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOW WITH ART FROM THE AMAZING [DRAGONONI ](http://dragononi.tumblr.com) ON TUMBLR, AHHHH.
> 
> Tentative schedule:  
>  ~~Ch. 1 - 11/12~~  
>  ~~Ch. 2 - 11/18~~  
>  ~~Ch. 3 - 11/25*~~  
>  ~~Ch. 4 - 12/2~~  
>  ~~Ch. 5 - 12/9~~  
>  ~~Ch. 6 - 12/16~~  
>  ~~Ch. 7 - 12/16~~
> 
> *Amy will be on vacation for Thanksgiving; this date is subject to change.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Hey, thanks again to everyone who read this fic. If you left comments and kudos, WE LOVE YOU. If you didn't and just read the fic, well, we love you too.
> 
> Thanks for coming on this adventure with us. There is a lot more in the future. We hope to have another one of our fics start posting either next Tuesday or Friday, so stay tuned for more!

They'd been late for the meeting. Oh, they'd reached the Den in plenty of time but the constant vibrations from the bike and the plug keeping him full and wet had combined to make Keith’s purposefully long route Lance’s undoing. He'd come right on the back of the motorcycle, and Keith hadn’t been able to resist yanking him into his office to flip up his skirt and soil his panties further.

So they'd ended up being very late, and Lance couldn’t honestly say what had been covered. Something about the madame giving them a glowing review, the smallest of reprimands for getting so personal with Keith during the show that had been more of a fond tease, and... that was all Lance could really remember because Keith wouldn’t stop touching him under the table.

The kinky bastard was a perfect match for him, as far as Lance was concerned. By the time the meeting had ended, though, his ass was oversensitive and he couldn’t handle a ride all the way out to the field with the plug. Another trip to his office required another section of tape to be cut and, hell, someone was going to notice if they kept at it. But Lance wasn’t about to stop and neither was Keith. They weren’t wasting this second chance.

When they finally reached the field, the sun was beginning to set and the barest hint of stars were visible. He laughed when he whirled off the bike, short skirt flaring and flashing a hint of purple panties that didn’t match his outfit. The wet black ones he'd had on were tucked in Keith’s pocket. “I haven't been here in years, jesus. I thought it would've changed some. But it's still gorgeous.”

Keith smiled fondly at him, sliding off the seat and pulling a blanket out of the small bag he'd had perched on the front. He spread it out on the grass behind them before cupping Lance's hips, drawing him in for a kiss. “I never thought I'd ever come back here,” he admitted, trailing his lips down Lance's jaw to his neck. “It’s- This is the place I first figured out my attraction to you.” And though he hadn't known it at the time, it was also where he’d fallen in love. “This feels so surreal.”

“You've got that realization pretty firmly in place now.” Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck, toying with the ends of his mullet. “You've spent the past week proving that.”

His lips quirked up in a smirk. “Yeah, well, when you look the way you do… it's kind of impossible not to be attracted to you.”

Lance laughed. “Your weakness is justified, pretty boy. You're lucky to have me.”

“And you're completely full of yourself,” Keith quipped, nipping his bottom lip. “ _You're_ lucky I love you.”

“I'm lucky in a lot of departments. Looks, boyfriends - life's going good for me.” Grinning, Lance drew back to drop onto the blanket. He stretched languidly, leaving his hands linked above his head and legs crossed at the knee, skirt slipping down his thighs. “Could you move? You're kinda blocking my view there.”

“You're an ass.” But Keith laughed and followed him down, rolling over on top of him and stealing another kiss. “How about this?”

“You’re still blocking my view.” Lance wrapped his arms around him, fingers linking loosely at the small of his back. “But you're pretty and I like you on top of me, so I'll allow it.”

“Hmm, I'll move when it gets darker. Right now I just wanna make out with you.” He leaned down the rest of the way to do just that, pressing his lips to Lance's with a soft sigh, slipping his tongue into his mouth to tangle with Lance's languidly.

Lance’s eyes closed on a soft sigh. He would've killed for this at nineteen, but was content to have it now with the blanket soft over hard ground and Keith’s firm form holding him to it. Warmth seeped in, tingling from head to toe in the best of ways. This was his to keep, to have and hold onto for a lifetime. He could handle that.

Keith pulled back only when the sky changed colors from a hazy pinkish-purple to a deep navy, stars already shining bright through the atmosphere. He skimmed his hands down Lance’s sides, his gaze intent on the beautiful face in front of his. At one point in his life he had let this go, let Lance go, and that heartbreak had never left him alone. Not until Lance had opened his heart to him, had actually given him the second chance that even Keith knew he didn't deserve. He couldn’t believe that within a week they were able to patch it all back together, but they had, and they were stronger now because of it.

And Keith was never letting him go again.

He leaned down again to press his lips to Lance’s cheek. “I love you, Lance. So, _so_ much.”

Lance’s cheeks pinkened, lips curving in his rarer shy smile. He wasn’t sure if he'd ever get used to Keith’s sweetness. “I love you too, Keith. I really, seriously do.”

“I'm still amazed that you do,” he murmured, finally rolling off of him back onto the blanket. He stayed close, sliding his arm under Lance's shoulders, pillowing his own head on the other. He turned to face him, smiling softly. “You've made me so happy, Lance. The happiest I've ever been.”

Lance ducked his head, unable to help himself. “That's gay, Keith.”

Keith took his arm back, shoving him lightly. “Shut up, oh my god.”

“No, I was relaxing on you!” Lance rolled onto his side, dropping his cheek onto Keith's shoulder. “Because you make me happy, too. Even though your mullet is stupid.”

“Yeah?” He smirked. “Well, your dress is stupid.”

Lance gasped, pinching him. “Your gloves are stupid.”

Keith poked him in the forehead. “Your panties are stupid.”

“Now I know you're full of shit, pretty boy.” Lance laughed, grabbing his hand. “If I know more constellations than you, you're wearing a pair for a day.”

“Alright, but if I know more than you, you have to wear the biggest plug you have during your next performance.”

Lance squirmed. It actually sounded exciting. “Do you have any idea how uncomfortable erections are when you tuck? Holy shit, Keith.”

Keith smirked, wrapping the arm Lance was laying on back around his shoulders. “So we have a deal, then?”

“Fuck.” Lance didn’t really care if he won or lost, both options promising, but he had a wide variety of plugs and wasn’t sure just how mobile he'd manage to be wearing his biggest one. But Keith’s smirk fueled his competitive spirit the way it always had. “Okay. You're on, asshole.”

“Bring it, shitlord.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tentative schedule:  
>  ~~Ch. 1 - 11/12~~  
>  ~~Ch. 2 - 11/18~~  
>  ~~Ch. 3 - 11/25*~~  
>  ~~Ch. 4 - 12/2~~  
>  ~~Ch. 5 - 12/9~~  
>  ~~Ch. 6 - 12/16~~  
>  ~~Ch. 7 - 12/16~~
> 
> *Amy will be on vacation for Thanksgiving; this date is subject to change.


End file.
